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Tomasina Stone extended her arm, presenting the handsome stranger with a hand encased in a fringed leather glove. “Miss Stone, if you’re looking for a cap to that question.”
She’d seen some peculiar sights in her time. She’d seen a cowboy so lonesome he’d howled at the moon. She’d seen a dog raise an abandoned skunk baby alongside her own pups. Once she’d even seen a river in the Colorado Territory run uphill atop the continental divide. However, never in her twenty-two years had she ever seen a sight this odd.
The man standing on the boardwalk in front of her was holding a baby in one arm and an expensive-looking, silver-handled cane in the other. Despite his peculiar circumstances, the man appeared strangely calm and in charge. As though he’d just finished adding a column of numbers instead of dodging a near mauling beneath the deadly hooves of a longhorn steer.
“Was anyone hurt?” he demanded.
“No one was hurt,” Tomasina assured the man. “No thanks to that fool woman who tried to cut across the street. She turned back soon enough. Disappeared into the crowd, so I expect she’s fine.”
The man anchored his cane beneath his arm and clasped her hand in greeting. His touch was firm without being crushing.
“The name is Will Canfield,” he said. “Thank you for your assistance, Miss Stone.”
“You sure picked a dangerous place to take your baby for a walk, Daddy Canfield. Might want to reconsider your route next time.”
The measured expression on his face faltered a notch. “Oh, this isn’t my baby.”
Having been raised around men her whole life, Tomasina had never given their looks too much thought. This fellow stood out. He wasn’t overly bulky, like some of the cowboys she rode with, or reed-thin, like the bankers in town, but something in between. His beard was trimmed in a precise goatee and his head was bare, revealing his neatly clipped brown hair. He was polite, but there was a clever edge in his dark eyes. This wasn’t a man easily crossed.
He reminded Tomasina of her first impression of Cowboy Creek; a mixture of the wild, untamed West with the appearance of cultivation brought by the easterners after the war. There was something more about him, though; an inherent air of authority. She’d give her eyeteeth if he hadn’t once been a soldier, and an officer, by the way he carried himself.
She hoisted an eyebrow. “Reckon who that baby belongs to is none of my business one way or the other.” She gestured toward the child. “Judging by how that little fellow’s mouth is working, you’d best find his mama soon. Looks like he’s getting ready for feeding time”
“It’s a girl,” Will corrected. “She’s wearing pink booties. I checked earlier.”
“Is that a fact?” Their exchange was turning into a real doozy. Tomasina tucked away the conversation for the next time the boys were telling tall tales around the campfire. “I think your girl is getting hungry. Better get mama.”
“That’s the whole problem.” The man spoke more to the infant in his arms than to her. “Someone abandoned her. I found her on my doorstep just now.”
Yep, Tomasina had seen a lot of strange things in her life, but this spectacle topped them all. “I can’t help you there. Any reason the baby’s mama picked you in particular? Maybe you should start with all the ladies of your acquaintance.”
His face flushed. “I can assure you this child’s origins are a mystery.”
Oddly enough, she believed him. He had the sharp look of a man who didn’t miss a detail. Probably someone had left the baby with him because of his wealth. He definitely appeared well-off. Even Tomasina recognized the expensive cut of his charcoal gray suit and the fine workmanship of his crisp, white shirt.
He glanced over his shoulder and then back at her. “The woman—the one who spooked the cattle. Did you see which way she ran? I think this child belongs to her. If not, then she might have seen something. She was hiding in the shadows when I discovered this little bundle.”
“Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Did you get a good look at her?” he persisted. “Would you recognize her if you saw her again?”
“Nope,” Tomasina said with a slow shake of her head. Much as she’d enjoy assisting the gentleman, her attention had been directed elsewhere at the time. “Everything was a blur. Like I said before, I was focused on the cattle.”
Clearly frustrated by her answers, Daddy Canfield muttered something unintelligible.
He grimaced and held the bundle away from him, revealing a dark, wet patch on his expensive suit coat.
Tomasina chuckled. Oh, yeah, the boys were going to love this one. They’d never believe her, but they’d love the telling. Her pa always liked a good yarn, as well. At the thought of her pa, her smile faded. He’d died on the trail a few weeks back, and they’d buried him in the Oklahoma Territory. The wound of his loss was still raw, and she shied away from her memories of him.
“Fellow...” Tomasina said. “As much fun as this has been, I’d best be getting on.”
“Thanks for your help back there,” Will replied, his tone grudging. “Your quick action averted a disaster.”
The admission had obviously cost him. He struck her as a prideful man, and prideful men sometimes needed a reminder of their place in the grand scheme of things.
“Baby or not,” she offered with a wide grin, “it wasn’t your life I was saving. I was looking out for the bull. My job isn’t protecting greenhorns who don’t have the sense to stay out of harm’s way. It’s getting four thousand head of longhorn cattle safely to market.”
“Point taken.”
Tomasina smothered her disappointment. His easy capitulation had neatly dodged her goading. She’d best watch herself around Will Canfield. He didn’t play by the rules.
His gaze settled on the holster strapped around her hips. “You can’t carry your guns in town. There’s a sign on the outskirts stating the policy of Cowboy Creek.”
“I saw it.”
“Then you know you need to check your guns with the sheriff during your stay.”
“That’s what the sign says, all right,” she answered evasively. There was no way under the sun she was relinquishing her guns. She’d encountered this sort of policy before, though, and she had a few tricks up her sleeve. “Who’s the sheriff?”
“Quincy Davis.”
“You pay him by the arrest?” she asked.
“That’s how it’s done around here.”
“Excellent.” A sheriff paid by the arrest was a sheriff willing to make a deal. “We’ll see what Quincy Davis and I can work out.”
As a lone woman in a man’s profession, she was constantly on guard. Her guns ensured her safety. Especially now that Pa was gone. He’d warned her it was time to hang up her drover’s boots and settle into a regular job fit for a female. She wasn’t having any of it—then or now. Driving cattle was all she knew. She’d never worn a skirt in her life, and she had no intention of starting now. Her pa’s reputation hadn’t been the only thing protecting her all these years. She’d built up her own name. Once this herd was safely delivered to market, she’d carry on as usual.
Her heartbeat stuttered and her eyes burned. Not exactly the same. Pa was gone. She fisted her hand on her knee and straightened. Swallowing hard a few times, she corralled her emotions. The first rule of being a lone female in a man’s domain was to stay tough.
Will Canfield frowned. “You all right, Miss?”
“Right as rain.”
She hadn’t planned on staying in Cowboy Creek long, but the man standing in front of her piqued her interest. If he didn’t like guns in town, he’d probably balk at the idea of a rodeo show. For reasons she couldn’t explain, the thought of provoking him cheered her.
The baby fussed, and Daddy Canfield awkwardly bounced the bundle in his arms.
Tomasina had to give the man credit. He was clearly out of his element but doing his best all the same. A sentiment she understood all too well. Her pa’s death had left her in charge of the cattle drive, but the position was as hollow as it was temporary. The boys had only stayed on this long because of loyalty to her father. Although they’d finish the job, they’d made it clear they weren’t taking orders from a woman. That meant she’d have to join up with another outfit.
She was a drover by trade and a drover by blood. She’d stay a spell and then hire on with another outfit. Same as always. First she’d stage the rodeo show she and her pa had performed dozens of times before. Let the boys blow off some steam after the long, demanding ride. Same as always.
“Daddy Canfield,” she declared. “Since you don’t like guns, how do you feel about rodeo shows? You know, trick riding and fancy target shooting?”
“Not in my town. Too dangerous.”
“Excellent,” Tomasina replied with a hearty grin.
Yep. She felt better already.
Chapter Two (#ulink_9322f2bb-1982-561a-9371-f4f52f5b6c9d)
“Can you at least tell how old she is?” Will asked beseechingly then caught himself.
This was a baby, not a catastrophe, and there was no reason for panic.
While Leah Gardner examined the child, he stood in the archway of the dining room of her well-appointed house. A lifetime ago in Pennsylvania, he and Leah had been engaged. Their lives had changed drastically since then. A month back she’d married his closest friend and fellow soldier, Daniel.
Will couldn’t be happier for the pair.
Five months pregnant with her late, first husband’s child, Leah was the perfect candidate for caretaker of the baby. Surely she’d see the practicality of his plan once he explained his problem.
Daniel’s wife tilted her head and smiled at him with the warmth of a timeworn friendship. “Relax, Will. You’ll wear a hole in my carpet if you keep pacing.”
He caught sight of the depressions his cane tip had left and mumbled an apology.
“I was only teasing.” Leah sobered. “How is your leg these days?”
“Same as always. But at least it’s there. Opal Godwin said the cane makes me look dashing.”
“Opal Godwin thinks the man on the cigar box is dashing.” Leah’s dimpled smile returned. “Sometimes I wonder if you even need that walking stick or if it’s a convenient excuse to keep people at a distance. Half of Cowboy Creek is intimidated by you and the other half is afraid. Most of the townsfolk think you have a sword or a gun hidden in that cane of yours.”
“I’ve certainly never encouraged the rumors. Although a little healthy respect never hurt a fellow. I won’t be seen as weak.” The walking stick was more than an affectation. His balance suffered without assistance. “At least I can hide my affliction. Not everyone is as lucky.”
“Many men were injured in the war. Their wounds don’t make them lesser men.”
Though neither of them had voiced a name, they were both thinking of the same person. Will pictured Noah and the disfiguring burns that covered his lower left jaw, under his ear and disappeared beneath his shirt collar. “The wounds heal but the scars remain.”
“You couldn’t save them all. Noah’s injuries were not your fault. He lived. As did you and Daniel. Many more did not. I know you worry about Noah, but he’s strong. He’ll find his own way by and by.”
Noah Burgess, a friend and fellow soldier, had brought Will to Cowboy Creek. Noah had staked a claim first and his letters had lured Will and Daniel West. Born a Southerner, Noah had fought harder than any Northerner to prove himself worthy. During the Battle of Little Round Top, while taking the place of a brigadier general felled by a sniper, his gun had backfired. Wounded himself, Will had not been able to reach his friend before the flames had engulfed him. The army had discharged Noah due to his injuries, and he’d made his home in Kansas.
“He keeps to himself more and more these days,” Will said with a frown. “He’ll turn into an irascible old hermit soon.”
“Is that why you decided to order a bride for him without his consent? He’ll have both you and my husband tarred and feathered for interfering. Leave him be from now on,” Leah admonished. “He’ll mend in his own time.”
Her words pricked his conscience. Will was having his own doubts about sending for a bride without informing Noah. At the time, the idea had seemed inspired. They were all celebrating the success of the first bride train and the subsequent marriage between Leah and Daniel. He’d been uncharacteristically optimistic. After posting the letter, his enthusiasm had waned almost immediately. Leah was correct. Noah was bound to have their hides once he discovered the interference. At least there were plenty of other eligible bachelors if Noah balked. That thought let Will sleep at night.
“I interfered with you and Daniel,” Will said. “And look how well that turned out.”
“Twisted Daniel’s arm, did you?” She aimed a playful swat in his direction. “I’ll forgive you this once.”
“There was no arm twisting, I can assure you,” Will retorted. “Noah and I only nudged Daniel in the direction he was already heading.”
At the mention of her new husband, Leah’s blue eyes took on a soft, misty look. Will rubbed his knuckles against the recent ache in his chest. Daniel and Leah had found an extraordinary love together. He was happy for them and a little jealous, as well. Their abiding affection was a rare and brilliant thing. If Noah let someone into his heart, he might find something equally lasting.
His buddy’s injuries had taken more than a physical toll. He needed a nudge in the right direction, as Daniel had. Either way, there was no going back now. The letter had been posted. When Constance Miller arrived, Will and Daniel would explain the situation. They’d smooth over any awkwardness.
“I’ll forgive you because I adore Daniel with every fiber of my being.” Leah touched her cheek. “I wasted so much time when the perfect man was right there waiting for me all along.”
Her head bent, and Will admired the pale gold hair caught in a neat bun at the nape of her neck. “We were all young and foolish.”
“Perhaps children are supposed to be foolish,” she remarked lightly. “We’ve all changed.”
Growing up in their hometown in Pennsylvania, he and Daniel and Leah had been inseparable. When Will and Leah had gotten engaged, they’d been little more than children making the awkward transition from playing with slingshots and splashing through streams into adulthood. The war had changed everything.
The war had changed everyone.
He and Leah had gradually drifted apart during the years of his enlistment. The fragile threads of their romantic connection had not survived the physical distance between them. Deep down, both had known they were best suited as friends and nothing more.
During their years serving together in the army, Will had realized Daniel’s feelings for Leah had been far deeper than his own had ever been. With death constantly looming near, Daniel had never given voice to his yearnings, and Leah had eventually married another man.
Will had not expected to see Leah ever again, so her arrival in town had been a shock. With the original collection of dilapidated shanties growing into a thriving community, the three friends soon realized Cowboy Creek needed women to flourish. Only four women had arrived on that first train and, much to Will’s amazement, Leah had been one of the prospective brides. Her ill-fated marriage had abruptly ended when her husband had been shot by a jealous spouse. Pregnant with her late husband’s child, she’d needed to remarry quickly.
Will’s lips quirked. He recalled how he, along with Noah, had urged Daniel and Leah to wed. Their intervention had been inspired. After a rocky start, Leah and Daniel had admitted their feelings, both past and present, and were now more in love than ever. Their success gave him hope that Noah would find the same.
Leah cooed at the baby propped on her rounded belly. “This sweet little thing can’t be more than a few days old. She appears healthy enough. Her mother must have nursed her.”
“What now?” Will spread his hands. “How do we feed her? What do we feed her?”
“I have some glass bottles. As you well know, I’d planned on serving as the local midwife, and I brought along a few supplies when I came to town.” She patted her stomach. “Of course, any work will have to wait until after this baby is born.”
Normally a whirling dervish of activity, Leah instead called for the maid and dispatched her instructions. The telling gesture left Will uneasy. Though married to her first husband for several years, Leah had been unable to carry a child successfully to term. In deference to her health, Daniel treated her with kid gloves. He’d hired the undertaker’s spinster sister to help out, and his friend kept a close and loving eye on Leah. He’d probably pitch a fit if he knew Will was here pestering her about the abandoned baby instead of letting her rest.
Narrowing his gaze on the infant, Will considered his options. “The hotel restaurant has fresh milk delivered each day.”
“That’s probably best. With the general lack of women in this town, I don’t suppose Booker & Son carries pap. Might be something you should look into before long.”
“I haven’t checked, but you’re probably right. We haven’t had much call for infant supplies.”
When he and the other two men had invested in the town, they’d anticipated most everything. They’d built a church and a school. They’d even hired a doctor trained in one of the finest schools back east. Too late, they’d discovered the doctor hadn’t been as interested in delivering babies as he was in other forms of medicine. Leah’s arrival was fortuitous in more ways than one.
They’d thought of a lot of things but, being men, they hadn’t thought of everything.
Leah lifted the baby and grimaced at the damp spot on her skirt. “You’ll need more nappies, as well.”
She rested the infant on the dining room table and peeled back the layer of blanket.
The basket had been stuffed with a supply of miniature outfits. Tiny dressing gowns of yellow calico had been carefully pressed and folded then nestled beside crocheted booties and knit caps. The loving craftsmanship of the work and the expense of the materials were obvious.
“It doesn’t make any sense,” he said. “Someone planned for this baby. Someone sewed that clothing. Someone carried this child for nine months. Why abandon her on my doorstep?”
“Because you’re wealthy.” Leah shrugged one shoulder. “Because you’re one of the town founders. Because you’re known for your compassion. You’d seem a logical choice to me.”
“I’m not compassionate,” he grumbled. “And none of that explains why a mother would abandon her baby.”
