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Those big blue eyes blinked with obvious surprise, and something twanged in his heart like a cowboy plucking his guitar.
“Let me think.” She walked toward him, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully.
He’d never noticed how pretty and smooth and plump her lips were. Sure would be nice to—
“You could take the wash to Chen’s Laundry,” she whispered. “Don’t tell Mrs. Foster, though. I’ll pay for it.”
“Laundry again today?”
She nodded. “It never ends. Apparently she does towels and kitchen linens on Wednesday and the boarders’ clothes and sheets on Thursdays.”
“Whew. That’s a lot of work for a little old lady.” Tolley didn’t know where toting laundry fell on the list of women’s or men’s appropriate chores, but he’d do it this once until he found out. “I’ll take it.”
He waited by the front door while Laurie gathered the guests’ laundry and bedding. She dragged it down the stairs all bundled up in a sheet. When he slung it over his shoulder, the weight made him wince. What a heavy load for a little gal like Laurie. How much harder for old Mrs. Foster.
“See you later.”
Laurie held the door open, and he stepped outside as Doc Henshaw rode up from the south.
“Hey, sis, Tolley.” He dismounted and came to the front door carrying his black bag. “I want to look in on Mrs. Foster. How is she?”
“In pain.” Laurie’s delicate eyebrows bent into a worried frown. “And a little dizzy. I gave her another dose of laudanum in the middle of the night, as you said, but she wouldn’t take any this morning.”
“Probably best.” Doc eyed the laundry and clapped Tolley on his free shoulder. “Glad to see you’re helping out. Good for you.”
An odd and foolish sense of satisfaction swept through Tolley. He admired Doc, so his approval meant a great deal. If his father had ever once said anything like that—
As if he’d heard Tolley’s thoughts, Doc continued. “I was out at Four Stones just now. The Colonel is doing as well as can be expected. I’m optimistic about his recovery. Pray for him and for your mother. She won’t leave his side.”
“Thanks.” Tolley’s suddenly raspy voice held more emotion than he wanted to reveal. He cleared his throat. “See you later.” He lumbered off down the street, feeling the weight of his burden like the ragmen he’d seen carrying similar loads in Boston, where they scoured the streets for cast-off cloth to sell to the paper mills.
In spite of Doc’s approval, Tolley could only picture his father lying still on his bed, face immobile, a face that might never show approval for Tolley. A selfish thought, of course. Poor Mother sat beside her husband day and night. That was her way. He’d even admit to harboring some pity for his father. Yet if the Colonel recovered, Tolley wanted to have a long list of accomplishments to show him so he’d no longer be ashamed of his youngest son. Or, at the least, so he could no longer ignore Tolley’s very existence.
The residential areas of Esperanza had grown since Tolley left for Boston, with numerous new houses on every street. More businesses had come to town, such as the six shops lining the south side of the Esperanza Arms, his sister’s hotel. With a bank, a mercantile, many other small businesses, even an ice cream parlor, now the community would be able to boast about having its own lawyer.
After depositing the washing at Chen’s Laundry on the east side of town near the railroad tracks, Tolley strode up Main Street to the bank. Then he cooled his heels in the lobby for a good half hour, wondering whether the banker would refuse to see him. But why? Nolan Means owed him for helping to thwart a bank robbery four years ago. That should give him some favor in the man’s eyes.
Don’t be defensive. Trust the Lord to bring about His will for you. Remembering Reverend Harris’s wise words soothed Tolley’s growing uneasiness, and none too soon.
Nolan entered the lobby through a door beyond the teller’s cage and strode across the space, hand extended. “Good morning, Tolley. It’s good to see you back in town. Let’s go into my office.”
“Thanks.” After shaking his hand, Tolley followed him into the well-appointed room. The banker’s polished mahogany desk and chair didn’t show a speck of dust. Oil paintings adorned the walls, and several figurines graced the bookshelves and side table. Tolley could imagine his own office furnished this lavishly, as befitted either a banker or a lawyer. “Thank you for seeing me.”
Nolan chuckled. “Would I ever refuse to see a Northam?”
Tolley grimaced. Echoing Nolan’s question, would he ever earn respect without relying on his family name? Fortunately, Nolan was making his way around the massive mahogany desk and didn’t notice Tolley’s involuntary reaction to his rhetorical question.
“Have a seat.” Nolan sat and waved toward one of the brown leather chairs in front of his desk. After they’d exchanged general news—Nolan’s recent marriage, the Colonel’s tenuous health, Mrs. Foster’s accident—he asked, “What can I do for you?”
“I understand the bank owns that building on the other side of the sheriff’s office. I’d like to rent it.”
“Ah.” Nolan sat back and steepled his fingers. “So you’re a lawyer now.”
A statement, not a question. Tolley smiled, but not too broadly. “Yessir. I have my credentials from Harvard and a letter from Judge Thomas, the Colorado attorney general, welcoming me into Colorado’s judicial system.” In his own ears, he sounded a bit of a braggart. Or a boy reciting his lessons.
Nolan apparently thought no such thing. His eyebrows arched, and he gave Tolley a broad smile. “Congratulations. That’s quite an achievement for—”
“A former troublemaker?” Tolley wanted to bite his tongue. What had Reverend Harris said about not criticizing himself?
Nolan chuckled. “I was going to say for such a young man.”
“I turned twenty-two last month.” And no family there to celebrate with him. Uh-oh. Self-pity. Another habit the good reverend warned him against. “Twenty-one is the minimum age to practice law here in Colorado...legally, that is.” He grinned.
“A clever bit of wordplay, eh?” Nolan laughed aloud. Tolley could grow to like this former stuffed shirt. Maybe his recent marriage had mellowed him. “So you’d like to hang out your shingle next to the jail, not in your sister’s hotel?”
Now Tolley laughed. “It’s the only way I can show my independence.”
“I know all about that,” Nolan said. “It’s why I moved here from New York. Out here in the West, a man can make his own reputation.”
Tolley grunted his agreement. Yes, he could easily see becoming friends with this man.
Nolan dug into the center drawer of his desk and pulled out a key on a metal chain. “Here you go. Rent is five dollars a month.”
Tolley’s lawyer instincts sent out an alert. “No contract?”
“Absolutely a contract.” Nolan stood and stuck out his hand. “A handshake and a good man’s word is contract enough for me.”
“Thank you, Nolan.” As they shook hands, Tolley appreciated the respect this man showed him. He took the key and made his exit. Once he’d checked his new office, he couldn’t wait to get home and tell Laurie about this milestone in his professional career.
Home? Laurie? Where did that thought come from? Mrs. Foster’s boardinghouse wasn’t his home. And he should want to tell his family first, not Laurie. Except, he couldn’t bear to go back to the ranch only to be sent away again. Anyway, his family didn’t seem interested in what he was doing. Laurie did.
Marriage hadn’t been in his immediate plans, but he kept thinking marriage to Laurie would be a real feather in his cap, an accomplishment the Colonel could neither disapprove of nor ignore when...if...he woke up.
* * *
Laurie thought her back might break from putting fresh sheets on the beds, toting water up the stairs, scrubbing the rooms and weeding and watering the garden. In all her years of visiting this house, why hadn’t she noticed how hard Mrs. Foster must work to keep body and soul together? Her widow’s pension from the War must be pitifully small.
Before noon, she started a pot of beans and fatback for supper. The two older boarders always ate dinner at the hotel, so she needn’t prepare a midday meal for them. Tolley would probably dine at Williams’s Café, but she still prepared enough soup to include him.
“Vegetable soup. My favorite.” Mrs. Foster grimaced in pain as Laurie helped her sit up. After Laurie placed the tray on her lap, Mrs. Foster tried to use the spoon with her shaking left hand but only managed to dribble the soup down the front of the apron Laurie had put on her. “Oh, dear.”
“It’s all right.” Laurie dabbed up the spill with a napkin and took the spoon. “Let me feed you.”
Tears formed in Mrs. Foster’s eyes. “What a mess I’ve made of things.”
“Now don’t start that again.” Laurie gave her a teasing smile. “I’m grateful Doc says you’ve only sprained your ankle. We’ll pray you’ll be back on your feet soon.”
“My broken arm won’t heal any time soon.” Mrs. Foster viewed her splinted right appendage. “I won’t be able to play the organ for a long time. Or even show my students proper piano technique.”
Laurie had already decided what to do about both situations. “You leave those to me. Your job right now is to get well.”
Mrs. Foster gave her a sad smile. “But, my dear, what about your position at the conservatory this coming fall?”
“My dear, haven’t you always told me to take no thought for tomorrow, as the Lord said?” Laurie struggled with her own fears about losing her teaching position, but nothing could be done about it. She must do right, which meant helping Mrs. Foster. “Besides, we have all summer for you to get well before I go back to Denver.” While her brother-in-law said the bones of older folks took longer to heal, Laurie would pray for the best, more for her mentor’s health and comfort than for anything to do with herself.
That afternoon, when she thought she’d earned a short rest, Seamus and Wes arrived from Four Stones Ranch with Tolley’s trunks, so she guided them upstairs to his room. Shortly after they left, she greeted Mrs. Foster’s six piano students. By the time she’d finished the last lesson, she needed to make the corn bread and cook the tender turnip greens she’d harvested from the garden.
She’d grown up on a ranch and known hard work all her life. But at home, many hands made light work. While she’d never abandon Mrs. Foster, this day wore her out. How had the dear lady managed all of this work, plus helping Laurie achieve her dream of becoming a conservatory teacher?
In spite of her encouraging words to Mrs. Foster, Laurie knew she must get back to Colorado’s capital city in the autumn. Otherwise her position would be given to someone else, and Laurie would be forced to say goodbye to her dreams forever. Which made her prayers all the more urgent. Perhaps even desperate.
Chapter Four (#ulink_735c85d5-4d67-5e10-9318-b02a0bb44c9b)
“A bathroom?” Mrs. Foster’s weathered face crinkled with puzzlement as she sat against her pillow. “Why, who ever heard of such a thing?”
“I think it’s just the thing.” Laurie sat in the bedside chair and patted the lady’s uninjured arm.
“Same here.” Tolley stood at the foot of the bed, hands in his pockets, feeling like a schoolboy who wanted to please his teacher.
“But I can’t afford—”
“We aren’t going to talk about money.” Tolley playfully wagged a scolding finger at her and grinned, but he meant it. Several years ago, his family had made the final payments on this house, the least they could do for the widow of Major Foster. If Foster hadn’t stepped in front of the Colonel at Gettysburg, taking a bullet himself, Tolley might never have been born. The old major suffered the rest of his life from the injury, finally passing away six years ago.
“Oh, dear, I don’t know.”
“We do.” Laurie’s blue eyes sparkled, and her smile brought out that dimple. My, she was pretty today. Every day, in fact. “All we need from you is your permission, and we’ll get started.”
Tolley could see she enjoyed this as much as he did. Having a partner would help greatly, especially this partner, especially since no one in his family cared for his company. But he mustn’t think about such things now. “What do you say, Mrs. Foster?”
The lady set her hand against her cheek and gave him a wobbly smile. “I won’t turn down such a generous gift, my boy.” Her eyes watered, and she dabbed at them with a linen handkerchief. “But where will you put it?” She peered toward the open door as if trying to envision the new room’s placement.
“We can convert the smallest bedroom, the one I’m in now,” Laurie said. “I can move to the empty one next to you.”
“Since the smaller room is at the back corner and over the kitchen, the plumbing will be easy.” Maybe not easy, but Tolley relished the challenge of installing the required pipe system.
“Oh, my.” Mrs. Foster fluttered her good hand over the quilt covering her lap. “Seems so complicated. Are you sure you can do this?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Tolley had prepared himself for questions. “I learned that Nolan Means installed the first bathroom in Esperanza even before Rosamond built the hotel. I asked him for advice, and he sent me to the workmen who dug the leaching field to handle the drainage. They’ll do that for us, and I’ll handle the rest, the interior part.”
“With my help.” Laurie gave him a challenging smile.
“Yep. Your help.” He wouldn’t argue in front of Mrs. Foster, but before they got started, he’d have to set some rules so Laurie would help, not get in his way.
“Then let’s get busy.” Laurie stood and bent to kiss Mrs. Foster’s cheek. “Would you like your book?”
“Why, yes. Thank you, dear.”
Laurie handed her the volume. “If you need anything, ring the bell.” She nodded toward the brass bell with a wooden handle sitting on the bedside table. The old schoolmaster who’d once boarded here had left it behind.
“It’s so loud.” Mrs. Foster clicked her tongue.
“Yes, ma’am. All the better to hear it.” Tolley laughed. “Laurie, let’s get busy.”
* * *
Laurie took the last of her dresses from the small wardrobe and moved them across the hall to the larger room. Later, Tolley and Adam Starling rearranged the furnishings for her.
“Are you sure this is where you want the vanity?” Tolley’s voice held an edge, though Laurie couldn’t imagine why.
“Well...” She tapped a finger against one cheek thoughtfully. “Another twelve inches or so to the left.”
He rolled his eyes, but Adam chuckled. “Makes sense to me.”
“Don’t encourage her.” Tolley scowled at Adam.
Adam shrugged. “It’s awful close to the stove. Might warp the wood.”
These two back rooms were heated by small woodstoves, unlike the four front bedrooms, each of which contained a fireplace built back-to-back with the adjacent room and aligned with those on the ground floor to share the house’s two chimneys.
“Thank you, Adam.” Laurie gave him her sweetest smile and noticed a hint of red beneath the tan of his cheeks. Tolley frowned at her. Did he think she was flirting with Adam? Even if she were, which she wasn’t, it was none of his business.
“All right, let’s move it.” Tolley gripped one side of the oak vanity. “Careful of the mirror.”
Once they placed it, Laurie gave them a firm nod. “Perfect. Thank you. Now, I’d better get busy with supper, or I won’t have it on the table at seven sharp.”
While Tolley chuckled, Adam questioned her with one raised eyebrow.
“Don’t ask,” Tolley said, but added, “Grumpy boarders.”
“Ah.” Adam nodded his understanding.
With all of the people who employed him for odd jobs, Laurie had a feeling he knew plenty about grumpy people.
“Off you go.” She herded the two from her new room and hurried down the back stairs. She’d have to put her personal belongings away later.
Tonight’s stew simmered in the cast-iron Dutch oven. She retrieved the peeled potatoes and carrots from the icebox and added them to the meat. Next came the dinner rolls. Earlier, she’d made the dough, so she needed only to shape it into balls to rise again on the baking sheet. That done, she double-checked the cooling apple pie she’d made earlier from last year’s fruit. Mrs. Foster had harvested the green apples from the tree in her yard, then sliced and dried them so she could provide this dessert to her boarders all year long.
After her first disastrous attempt at cooking supper, Laurie quickly learned to manage the stove. She figured out how to adjust the flue and how to move the wood around to control the heat for both the oven and the stovetop. Although Mrs. Runyan and Mr. Parsley remained hard to please, their complaints often seemed petty, perhaps even an attempt to outdo each other with displeasure. Laurie knew some cowboys here in the San Luis Valley who competed on anything from horse races to eating pie. At least Tolley offered compliments about the food, as did Mrs. Foster when Laurie carried her meal up before serving the others.
That evening, according to their plan, Tolley offered the blessing for supper and then introduced the subject of the bathroom to the other boarders. It took a moment for either one to grasp the idea. Then the comments began, as she and Tolley expected.
“Why, the very idea!” Mrs. Runyan served herself a large portion of pot roast.
“Humph! Never heard of such a thing.” Mr. Parsley ladled gravy over his potatoes.
“There goes modesty out the window.” Mrs. Runyan waved her fork in the air to emphasize her complaint. “Where I come from, bathing in a tub is considered indecent.”
“You’d better not make noise and disturb my rest.”
