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Seemed everyone had the same idea. A stampede tried to squeeze out the door, pushing Lucy tight to Wade’s side. He discovered she not only fit like they were meant for each other, but that it was going to be nearly impossible to keep his thoughts on the purpose of his visit. He grunted as someone elbowed him. “Trouble with being at the front is you’re the tail going out,” he murmured.
Lucy groaned. “I know all that chocolate cake will be gone.”
A young man in a suit and tie, with a complexion the color of biscuit dough, allowed himself to be jostled against Lucy. Wade felt her stiffen, knew she didn’t appreciate the boldness of this dandified man. Wade edged forward just enough to push the man away. And then they were through the door, in the open where a person could breathe without inhaling someone else’s air. He grabbed Lucy’s elbow and hustled her to the table. ’Course he didn’t have to do much hustling. He was hard-pressed to keep up to her as she made the hundred-yard dash to the table covered with a selection of cakes. He dropped twenty cents into the plate and got two cups of tea in exchange.
“Look, there’s a piece left.” She dived for it and emerged crowing with triumph. A thought seemed to choke her pleasure. She glanced from the cake to Wade. Doubt clouded her face. “I could…”
She was considering giving up her cake after wrestling it from the kid behind her who now glared daggers at her. “You’d never forgive me.” He did not need her to hold a grudge over some cake. And to prove his point, he scooped up a large piece of spice cake with brown sugar icing, followed her away from the table to one of the benches and sat down.
Lucy ate the cake like it was a matter of life and death. She licked her fingers. Barely resisted licking the plate. He was so fascinated with her enthusiasm he forgot to test his own piece of cake.
She must have seen the wonder in his expression. “You have no idea how delicious it is.”
“Was.”
She eyed her plate.
“You ate the whole thing.”
“I offered it to you.”
“Yup.” He took a bite of his own selection. “This ain’t half bad either.”
“Like comparing beans and peaches. Both good but—” She shrugged, letting him know he got the beans but she wasn’t a bit regretful.
He mused about how best to bring up the topic of the ranch without mentioning her father. “I heard that poem before. My ma used to work in a house where they had literary gatherings. She loved that poem. Guess that’s why I like it.”
“You mean the poem I recited?” She grinned. “Or the one about chasing the horse?”
Far as he was concerned, only one poem stood out as being worthy of mention. “Yours. It made me miss her.”
“Where is she?”
“Died some years ago.”
“I’m sorry. My ma is dead, too.”
Another thing Scout neglected to tell him. “I guess you never stop missing your ma.” Though he’d started missing his ma long before she died. Once she started working for the Collins family after Pa’s untimely death, she’d never had time for him.
Lucy nodded. “I don’t expect I’ll ever forget my ma or the lessons I learned from her.”
He wanted to talk to her, ask her about her mother, tell her about the ranch but a continual string of people came by to say howdy-do to Lucy. She laughed and joked with them all. She had an easy way about her, as if life fit her well.
Someone came by and picked up the empty cups and plates.
Lucy sprang to her feet. “I could of done that. I’ll help with the dishes.”
The lady, the same black-garbed woman who had announced the refreshments, tittered and batted her eyes at Wade. “No, no, dear. You enjoy your beau.”
“My beau?” Lucy sputtered so hard Wade whacked her between the shoulder blades. True, he did so a little harder than necessary but the way she had said beau, as if he had as much appeal as a seven-day rash, kind of rubbed him the wrong way. He could be her beau if he wanted.
She stopped sputtering and shifted away from his patting, giving him a look fit to fry his brain.
“Wouldn’t want you to choke to death,” he said.
“I was in more danger of having a rib broke than choking.” She moved with the determination of a filly eager for freedom. “I’m leaving now.”
She didn’t need to go away in a huff. He hadn’t patted her that hard. He glanced around and realized the yard was emptying out. Lucy was already headed for the gate. Did she think to leave him standing in the middle of a vacant pen? He charged after her. “I’ll see you home.”
“I know the way. Probably better than you.”
“I might be nothing but a rough, tough cowboy, but I’m gentleman enough to see a lady home.”
“Perhaps you ought to go find yourself a lady, then.”
He laughed. “You’ll do.”
She stopped so sharp he ploughed into her, staggered to keep his balance and steady her, too.
She spun about.
He winced back at the fiery light in her eyes. Had he said something offensive?
“I’ll do? I’ll do?” Her voice rose with every word.
“You don’t think so?” How could she object to that? He’d meant it as admiration.
She clamped her lips together and continued down the street. Wade lifted his hands in confusion. Give him cows or horses any day over womenfolk. Who could understand them?
She stopped in front of the Dry Creek dining room. “This is where we part ways.”
“You’re going back to work?”
“No. I’m going to bed.”
“In the dining room?”
She rolled her eyes. “I have a room in the back.” She squinted at him as if suspecting shenanigans from him. “Right next to the room where Harry and Hettie sleep.”
He grinned. “I had no plan to search out your sleeping quarters.”
Her cheeks reddened. “I didn’t suggest you did.”
He kind of liked seeing her flustered. He shepherded his thoughts back to the reason he had looked her up. “I only want one thing from you.”
She opened the door and stepped inside. “Good night.” The door closed.
He raised his voice. “Don’t you want to know why it’s so important?”
Her muffled voice came through the wood. “There aren’t enough words in the world to make me change my mind.”
He stared at the closed door for some time before he whistled for the patient Two Bit and rode to his camp. A man with an ounce of sense would admit defeat and ride away, but he had made himself a promise to pay back Scout’s kindness by bringing his daughter to visit. He wasn’t about to give up. Lucy needed some persuading was all. And he was a patient man. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to be too patient. He’d like to get back in time to see Scout before his friend departed this life.
He wondered how Scout was doing. Wade had arranged for an old cowboy friend to stay with Scout when he’d left to find Lucy. But Wade didn’t figure Scout had many days left in him. He needed to hurry along Lucy’s change of mind. He again prayed—a still unfamiliar activity. God, help me accomplish the task I’ve chosen.
Lucy shut her bedroom door and began to prepare for bed.
She didn’t want to know anything more about her father. She’d spent too many pointless years waiting and hoping for him to do more than flit in and out of her life. She’d seen far too clearly how her mother had pined after a man who had made promises he never kept. After her mother died, still hoping for her father to make good on his promises, Lucy had sworn never to need or want anything more from her father. Nothing Wade could say or do would change that.
She sat cross-legged on her bed and opened her Bible. It had been her mother’s. In the front were the family history pages. Lucy stared at them. Her name and birth date entered by her mother. Her mother’s death in Lucy’s handwriting. The births and dates of death of her mother’s parents and her mother’s brother who had died when he was only three months old. She turned to the conspicuously empty page for registering marriages. No marriage between her parents had ever been entered because her father failed to marry her mother and make an honest woman out of her, despite his many promises to do so.
Lucy sighed. It was old news. She no longer cared. Turning the pages carefully, she paused at the bookmark and read a chapter before gently replacing the Bible in its place of honor on her bedside table. She said her prayers as she’d done from her earliest remembrance. She knew—because her mother told her often—there had been a time when their lives didn’t include churchgoing, Bible reading and prayer. A time when her mother had been a rebel and a run away. But she thankfully did not recall that period. Her father was part of her mother’s BC time—Before Christ—and Lucy did not want any share of it.
She lay staring at the narrow window high in the wall opposite her bed. Often she wished she could see outside without standing on her tiptoes, but Harry and Hettie were more than generous to provide her a room. She had only to think about Roy to realize her life without family might be a whole lot worse.
Thinking of Roy brought her thoughts round to Wade. No doubt after her rude dismissal he’d ridden out for wherever it was he headed. Made no difference to her. He was like a hundred other cowboys she saw.
Only—she regretfully admitted—no other cowboy had insisted on accompanying her to a recitation, nor admitted bold-faced how he missed his ma and her favorite poem.
She would doubtless never see him again and that, she told herself, was a good thing.
The next day was Sunday and Lucy headed out to church. Hettie and Harry had never asked her to work on Sunday. They had another gal come in to handle the Sunday crowd.
As she sat enjoying the organ music before the service began, someone slipped into the pew beside her. Wade!
She couldn’t tell him to move along—not in church. Not that she didn’t want to. But she feared she would incur the wrath of God if she acted on her unkind thoughts, so she gave him a smile that went no further than the corners of her mouth. Indeed, her lips said, “Good morning.” But her eyes said something entirely different.
“Nice to see you at church,” he whispered.
“You thought me a heathen, did you?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Now why would you think such a thing?”
Why, indeed? But her conscience smote her. She’d been rude and dismissive. And him being a stranger in town. Hadn’t the Lord commanded them to be careful to entertain strangers? A grin filled her mouth as she thought of the rest of the verse—entertaining angels unawares. She had her doubts about Wade being any sort of an angel.
“Care to share the cause of your amusement?” he whispered as the pews filled up around them.
She couldn’t restrain herself and told him about the verse. She then added, “It doesn’t say what those who aren’t angels turn out to be.”
He managed to look sad even though his eyes shone with amusement. “I would not expect anyone to consider me an angel. But I guess that means you’re obligated to entertain me this afternoon.”
Obligated?
Her mind said no—she wanted nothing to do with a cowboy who knew her father and expected she would be glad to pay him a visit.
Her heart said otherwise. Obligation, cowboy, father—none of it mattered. The idea of an afternoon in this man’s company sounded fine.
Her mouth said, “I guess I’m obligated.”
He grinned. “I guess I am, too. No cowboy in his right mind would turn down such a generous invitation.”
Knowing he realized as much as she that it had not been one bit generous, they both laughed. Seems he didn’t mind the obligation any more than she, which was somehow all wrong. This man had made his intention perfectly clear—he only cared about spending time with her in order to persuade her to visit her father.
Just as she’d made it clear as a spring morning she wouldn’t be persuaded. So, what harm was there in spending a sunny afternoon with him? It wasn’t as if she was about to let this man, or any man, share anything but fragments of time. She had no need nor desire to give a man the right to twist her life into disarray as her father had done to her mother.
And herself.
She managed to postpone how she would deal with the afternoon until the service was over and she turned to see Wade grinning at her, his eyes dancing with amusement. She got the feeling he knew she’d boxed herself into a tight corner and he was enjoying her discomfort far too much for her liking.
She lifted her head. This was nothing she couldn’t handle. “Let’s get some lunch from the dining room.” Hettie would willingly give them a portable lunch. Lucy thought she’d take him to the park where the young people tended to congregate on Sunday afternoons. Safety in numbers.
When they arrived at the dining room and she told Hettie what she wanted, the woman practically crowed. “Off to courting corner, are you?”
Lucy gave her a look of devout distaste, grateful Wade had waited outside, out of hearing distance. “I’m not interested in courting, only in having lots of people around so I don’t have to personally amuse him.”
Hettie chortled. “I suppose that’s why all the other young people go there, too?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Now, don’t get all prickly with me, Lucy gal. I recall a time or two you’ve been there with some anxious young man.”
“I don’t need a man.”
“So you say. You’ll change your mind soon enough when the right one comes along.” She handed Lucy a basket full of food. “Now, off you go. Have fun. Who knows? This might be the right one.”
Lucy thanked Hettie and waited until she was almost out the door to add, “Not in a million years.” She’d never trust her happiness and future to any man.
Thanks to Hettie’s comments, she felt conspicuous as she led Wade to the park where she was certain everyone she met had the same sly look in their eyes, and similar thoughts in their heads.
At least Wade had no idea how people viewed a harmless little jaunt to the park.
She saw a spot under a sprawling group of trees where several others she knew gathered. Mr. and Mrs. Nolan sat by themselves on a nearby bench. With three daughters of courting age, they usually spent the afternoon at the park, providing proper supervision.
“Over there.” Lucy pointed toward the group.
“They your friends?” Wade looked toward a more secluded spot where an umbrella of branches provided an alarming amount of privacy. “It’s quieter over there.”
“They’ll be glad to let us join them.” She didn’t give him a chance to say yea or nay. She had no intention of being shepherded to a place where they would be alone, knowing he would likely consider it an opportunity to tell her how she ought to visit her father. She led him to her choice of location and introduced him to the group—most of whom had been at church earlier. After a round of greetings, she found a roomy spot and allowed Wade to spread the blanket Hettie had put in the basket.
The afternoon heat made everyone mellow. Lucy was glad no one prodded her with questions about Wade. She didn’t want to talk about him. She didn’t want to explain who he was, what he was doing here.
Hettie had packed fried chicken and fresh buns for Lucy, which they’d both enjoyed. Lucy took out a plate of cookies and offered it to Wade.
He took one. “I see there are certain advantages to working in a dining room.” He slanted an amused look toward the next couple who’d had only syrup sandwiches.
“I don’t think they noticed.” It was the youngest Nolan girl and a farm boy.
“If they did, they didn’t seem to care.” Wade leaned close. “I think they’re more interested in their sparking.”
