Where the Deer and the Antelope Play (Code of the West) (4 page)

This isn’t Colorado.

“Reverend? Reverend Houston? have you seen Tap?”

“No, my child. Mr. Andrews has not appeared. I’ll let you know as soon as he arrives. Then we can get the service started.”

“Started? You mean we haven’t said the vows yet?”

“My heavens, no.”

“But that’s not right. That’s not the way I have it orga
nized. We don’t dance until after the service.”

“My dear, things don’t always go as planned.”

She shoved her hands to her hips. “They do in my wedding, Parson.”

The morning light of another cold Colorado day peeked around the base of the curtains in her room when Pe
pper awoke. Buried deep under the quilts and comforters on her bed at the McCurley Hotel, she rolled to her back and kicked all the covers to the floor.

Lord, why do I keep having that dream? Everything WILL go as planned. Won’t it?

A voice at the door brought her to her feet. She clutched her robe. “Pepper dear? I’m afraid we won’t be able to go out to the ranch today.”

She opened the door slightly and peeked out at Mrs. McCu
rley. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“We had more guests come in last night. Mr. McCurley says we just shouldn’t take off, being full up and all. Oh, but you take the day off.”

“Really?”

“Honey, I’m sure you could find your way out to the ranch on your own.”

“But it might not look proper.”

“Pepper, in this weather there ain’t no one lookin’.” Mrs. McCurley grinned. “Besides I know you two need to make plans. Tap can drive you back tonight.”

“I think I just might.” She shut the door and then jerked it open again. “Mrs. Mac, does Mr. McCurley have time to harness the buggy for me?”

“I’ll see that someone gets it ready. I think some fresh air will do you good.”

“I believe you’re right. Say, is it hot in the hotel, or is it just me?”

“It’s Mr. McCurley burning that white pine. You know how it blazes. The new guests were almost frozen when they a
rrived—from Arizona, I believe. I guess he’s tryin’ to make them feel at home. That reminds me, I came up here to tell you there’s a man downstairs. He's eatin’ breakfast. I think you should talk to him before you leave.”

“You don’t mean Little Bob, do you?”

“Oh my, no. He’s a persistent young man, isn’t he? This fellow came in from Arizona last night. Says his name is Abel Cedar.”

“Who?”

“Abel Cedar. Claims to be headed out to the ranch to visit with his old friend Zachariah Hatcher.”

“Oh! He’s Suzanne Cedar’s brother.”

“That’s the way I figure.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Nothin’. But that’s why I figured you would want to talk with him a spell and save him a trip.”

“I’ll be down shortly.”

Closing the door, Pepper stood in front of the dresser and stared into the mirror.

Lord, I promised if someone ever came looking for Su
zanne, I’d give them her belongings and her money. We were going to use those funds to get the ranch started. I’ve been workin’ here at the hotel so we could save that money for something more important. And the dresses—those beautiful clothes. I can’t give it all up. I just can’t.

Pepper dragged the big trunk from the corner and opened it up.

The jewelry, the handbags, what am I going to tell Tap? Why isn’t he here? He’d know what to do.

I knew it would happen. I always knew I wouldn’t get to keep any of it.

Thirty minutes later Pepper scooted down the stairs wearing her long green dress and heavy coat, the only items left in her wardrobe that she had brought out of the dance hall. She grasped Suzanne Cedar’s Bible.

Mrs. McCurley stood near the front door talking to a very tall, thin man with long hair and unkempt beard.

“Pepper, this is Mr. Abel Cedar.”

He tipped his worn derby hat and smiled, revealing two gold teeth. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. You want to talk to me?”

Pepper led the way into the wood-paneled parlor and slid onto a padded oak deacon’s bench. “Mr. Cedar, I understand you are on your way to see Mr. Zachariah Hatcher.”

“I haven’t seen Hatch for several years, but I understand he was finally able to buy that little ranch up on the border. Do you know him?”

“Not exactly. Mr. Cedar, I don’t know a kind way to say this. But Mr. Hatcher was killed down in Arizona last fall. There was some sort of Indian skirmish south of Mexican Wells—”

“You don’t say. Hatcher killed? I’ve traveled all this way. Doesn’t that sink your ship.”

“I have a little more to tell you.”

“I hope it’s better news than that.”

Lord, help me now.
“I think it is going to be worse.”

“Oh, no.”

Pepper took a big breath.
I am not going to cry.
“Mr. Cedar, did you come from Kentucky and have a sister named Suzanne?”

“How did you know that?”

“I’m havin’ a real hard time telling you this." Pepper could feel tears slip out of the corners of her eyes and slide to the edge of her nose.

“I don’t blame you for worrying. But I know all about it.”

“You do?”

“I ran across a fellow from my home town. He told me F
ather died, Mother sold the place, and she and Suzanne moved to Chicago.”

“But that’s not all. Your—”

“Yes, I heard that Mama, bless her soul, died in Chicago.”

“And .
 . .”

“And what?” he asked.

“Your sister.”

“What about my sister? She moved out to California and married some big rancher. I figure to go look her up after I work my claim.”

“Your claim?”

“Yep, I found color just north of Bisbee down in Arizona te
rritory. I was hoping that Zachariah Hatcher would stake me so I could get it developed proper.”

“Mr. Cedar, please excuse my interrupting, but my heart’s about to burst. Your sister Suzanne is dead.”

“Say that again.”

“Suzanne was on her way to Colorado, not California, to marry none other than Zachariah Hatcher. But she was in a stage wreck. She was badly injured and died in my room. That is, at the place where I worked. At Pingree Hill between here and Ft. Collins.”

“I don’t believe it. Not Suzanne, too.”

“I know it’s a shock. Here’s her Bible. I have dearly e
njoyed reading it over the past few months.”

“Suzanne’s Bible? Where did you get this?”

“I told you, she died in my room.”

The tall man's shoulders slumped. He stared at the floor. “It’s like my whole life, all my dreams, my family, ever
ything just blown away in a bad wind storm.”

“I have her trunk in my room. I’ve been keeping her things, not knowing what to do with them. I can have them packed very quickly.”

“What kind of things?”

“Clothes, shoes, things like that. We gave her the best bu
rial we could at Pingree Hill. The Reverend Houston stopped by and said prayers over her. She was a fine Christian lady.”

“Yes. That’s Suzanne.”

“I want to confess, Mr. Cedar. I’ve worn some of her wardrobe. They were so beautiful, and I didn’t know what to do with them.”

“You sort of remind me of Suzanne. The yellow hair, the smile, even your manner. When you first came into the room with Mrs. McCurley, I thought of my sister.”

“Thank you so much. I take that as a great compliment. Would you like to come up and get the trunk?”

“I really don’t have .
 . . It will be . . .,” he stammered.

“The money. I almost forgot the money.” Pepper brushed back a tear and took the Bible from his hand. She pulled out a fat envelope from the front and handed it to Abel C
edar.

“What’s this?”

“Her money. I was saving it for—”

“How much is in there?” he shouted.

“$1,600. But I spent about $100. I promise I’ll save it up and pay you back.”

“This is my stake. This is it.
Jehovah jireh
.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The Lord provides! This is what I need to develop the claim. And it came from Suzy girl. I can’t believe this. It’s the worst and best day of my life, all in one.”

“I’m glad it’s not all bad news. Would you like to go up and get the trunk now?”

“A bunch of clothes?”

“Yes, and some pieces of jewelry and—”

"I can’t believe you held this money for me. I don’t know many people with your honesty and integrity. You didn’t even know I was coming.”

“To tell you the truth I—”

“And you took care of Suzanne at the end of her life? The Lord mightily bless you.”

“Really, I didn’t have any say.”

Abel Cedar jumped to his feet. “I am on my way to Arizona to develop that gold mine.”

“And the trunk?”

“For your benevolence in dealing with my Suzy, I want you to have her things.”

“Are you joking?”

“No. I implore you to keep it. I couldn’t take any of it with me anyway.”

“And the Bible?”

“You keep it. I have one of my own.”

“But I couldn’t.”

He leaned over and grabbed her by the shoulders. “You deserve it, and I must be off. If I don’t leave quickly, I’ll lose my claim.” He scurried toward the wooden coat rack.

“But don’t you want to see the grave site?”

“I’ll come back as soon as I get that gold in Arizona. Then I can put up an iron fence and a big marble marker.” He tipped his hat and scooted toward the front door.

“How about that $100? Where shall I send it?”

“It is your pay for being such a fine executor of Suzanne’s estate. Good day, Miss Paige.”

He was out the door before she was able to mumble, “Good day, Mr. Cedar.”

She slowly climbed the stairs slowly to her room. Changing into a stylish, lace-trimmed dress, she scanned each piece of the wardrobe.

It’s mine now. It’s not pretend anymore. All this belongs to me. Lord, you heard him.

She strolled down the stairs with gloves, ear muffs, and a hooded cape that had once belonged to Miss Suzanne Cedar.

Mrs. McCurley was waiting for her. “Mr. Cedar lit out of here in a hurry.”

“Everything’s okay, I think, considering all. Now I really have something to talk to Tap about. Do you know if the carriage is ready?”

“I put a few supplies in the buggy for you, including one of your peach pies.”

“But don’t you need it here with all the crowd?”

“That cowboy of yours needs a little spoilin’. I’ll make us a big batch of pooch, and everyone will be happy for one night anyway.”

“Pooch?”

“Canned tomatoes, white sugar, and bread.”

“They eat that?”

“Land-a-Goshen, yes. But I don’t have to tell them my re
cipe. Now go on. It’s a clear day. You have fun, but you be a good girl, you hear me?”

“Yes, Mother.”

The round-faced woman with short, gray hair smiled. “Any girl fixin’ for a weddin’ needs a mama, that’s for sure. But I don’t mean to cause you no offense.”

“You can mother me anytime you want. My mama died when I was fourteen, a very long time ago.”

The blast of cold air hit Pepper as she stepped out onto the hotel porch. She took a big, deep breath and stretched her arms. Her head was still swimming.

The hot coals that Bob McCurley had placed in the metal fire box below the floorboard of the buggy felt warm for about the first ten minutes of the ride. After that they were just plain hot.

Pepper finally pulled the lap quilt off her legs and shoved it down on the lid of the box to relieve the heat on her shoes. The brisk December air burned a refreshing coldness against her face. She loosened the hood of her cape. Some of the breeze washed back across her ears and neck.

It will be pretty cold after dark. Tap will be driving the rig, and I’ll be sitting next to him. That will warm me some.

You know, Lord, I’m not sure what You’re feeling about me and Tap getting married. But I want it bad. Real bad. It’s like You giving me a chance. To do something good with my life. With no shame attached.

But I’ve got to tell him we can’t count on Suzanne’s money. All right. We can get by.

After resting the horse once when she crossed the frozen creek bed, Pepper rolled on up into the hills toward the ranch, nibbling on one of the corn fritters Mrs. Mac had stashed in a basket with the pie.

The fire in the box had died by the time the ranch house came into view. It was the only dwelling between McCurleys’ and the Wyoming line, and Pepper was always excited when she spied it.

There’s smoke coming from the chimney. Tap’s home. He’ll see me driving in and come bursting out the front door any minute.