Carla Kelly (35 page)

She tipped some meat scraps in a bowl and put it on the porch for Magnus, who got to work immediately. A bowl of water went down next, and then he collapsed again under the porch swing, long ears wet from dragging through the water bowl.

When Two Bits came to the side door and hissed, Magnus opened one eye, sighed with the resignation of a martyr, and closed it, expecting the worst obviously, but not inclined to move after that meal.

“So, so much like Mr. Otto,” Julia said. “Two Bits, behave yourself. Magnus means well. You're not so handsome yourself, with a tail missing.”

Two Bits arched his back elaborately, made a few feinting punts with his claws out, then retired to the kitchen again, still in charge and full of dignity.

“I guess you're here on sufferance, same as I was, Magnus,” Julia said, bending down to give him another pat. “And I suppose you're my protector.” She laughed and ran her fingers along one velvety ear. “Let's hope I never need one.”

Paul's birthday came a week later, which meant an elaborate Imperial Cake, because she had plenty of raisins and the walnut meats were threatening to go rancid. She iced it with White Mountain Cream, and the hands took turns at the ice cream crank, while Paul watched, amused.

“We are far gone to becoming civilized,” he said as she handed him the paddle and a spoon since he was the birthday boy.

“You know you love it, cowboy,” she said. Charlotte carried the ice cream churn into the kitchen, followed by the entire crew. “Here's your present.” She handed him a package with nothing more exciting in it than a new pair of riding gloves, which Mama had smuggled to her at her request, inside a box with three Mother Hubbards from Mama's dressmaker. On her instructions, Kringle had made him new leather wrist protectors.

He smiled his thanks. “Got anything else, sport?” he asked. “I'm taking the afternoon off.”

“Feeling frisky?” she teased. “Keep your crew busy, and I'll put Charlotte to work snapping a gallon of string beans. But first, cake and ice cream. You know, to build up your strength.”

“Happy birthday, Romeo,” she said later in their bedroom. “Thirty-seven. Yikes.” She snuggled close. “At least you have all your teeth, and other things.”

“Especially those other things. Funny, last year when I turned thirty-six in the middle of all the range fires, I felt so blamed old! I don't feel old this year. Far from it.” He patted her fanny.

“You're my guy.”

He rested his hands on her belly again. “Your waist is but a memory, Darling. When did Doc say you might feel a quickening?”

“Another month. I declare it's like waiting for Christmas!” She closed her eyes, content. “I've been resisting wearing those Mother Hubbards Mama sent, but my clothes are getting so uncomfortable.”

“Vanity, thy name is Julia Otto,” Paul said. “I'm glad you're writing often to your folks. They need the reassurance that you're blooming.” He kissed her shoulder. “Let's convene a meeting of the corporation. There's some news, and I'm not sure how it affects us.”

“Only if it's good news, because it's your birthday,” she told him.

“I'm not sure what it is. Mundane matters first: Marlowe met me on the trail with a note from the liveryman, saying the buckboard was ready, and he'd found a good horse to pull it. I'll send Colby to Gun Barrel tomorrow to bring them back, and I'll teach you to drive it, if the horse is gentle enough.”

“I'm in favor. That way, I can visit Elinore.”

“Good. Here's the other news: McAtee's ranch has been sold to those three other stockmen who were his partners in crime.”

“Where… where did he go?”

“Nobody knows. I hope he's left the state, but I don't trust him.”

She nodded, grateful that Cora Shumway had taken James to Springville, Utah, to spend the summer with her parents. “At least we needn't fear for James.”

“I don't want to fear for us, either. Wish I felt easy about the matter, but I don't, so we'll table that issue. Here's something else: Marlowe had a letter for Doc, from his former wife. He read it right there on the trail, then asked me if you had written to her, telling her how well he's doing. Did you?”

“No,” she said, mystified. “I wanted to, but you didn't think it was a good idea, so I didn't. I'll have to assure him I didn't. Did he tell you what was in the letter?”

“No. Not my business. Not yours, either, sport.”

“Was he upset?”

“I don't know what he was,” Paul said frankly. “I'd have gotten the cold shivers if I had ever received a letter like that from Katherine, but that is, as you put it, ancient history. He seemed a little pleased.”

“Maybe he still loves her.”

“Could be.”

Paul hesitated. She knew he had more to say. “Need something else for your birthday?”

“One more thing. I've already told Malloy to keep everyone off the trail toward Gun Barrel tonight. Julia, you and I are going bathing in the river by the cut bank.”

“I can't,” she said quickly.

“You can. Every time we come back from Gun Barrel, you avoid looking at the cut bank. It's time you faced it and moved on.”

“Why, for Pete's sake?” she burst out.

“Because this is our home and our ranch and our river. You're in charge, not some stream, and for sure not last year's fire. Let all of it go, Julia.”

Julia was silent through supper, feeling her fears gather again from some place where they still hid. She wanted to be angry with Paul for forcing her hand, but something else in her told her he was right.
It's just water
, she thought, taking her towel and a bar of soap from the bathing room and scuffing her feet into the moccasins Charlotte had given her.

They walked hand in hand to the river as the shadows fell in the valley, another hot day done and gone. She knew she was squeezing Paul's hand too tight, but he didn't complain.

The water had gone down considerably since they had ridden onto the Double Tipi in April, but it was still much higher than last year's drought-blighted stream. The cut bank had a more generous overhang now, thanks to the pull and tug of a strong current.

She stood still as Paul undid the buttons on the back of her shirtwaist. He chuckled a little to see the top two buttons of her skirt undone. “Time to tuck those away,” he whispered, his lips on her shoulder now. “In you get.” He gave her a little push, and she went into the water, gasping out loud because it was cold and then wading deeper before she lost her nerve entirely.

She stood there shivering, more frightened than cold, until Paul joined her. He took her hand and towed her toward the cut bank. She drew back and started to cry, and he stopped, just holding her.

When he spoke, he was matter-of-fact. “I've toyed with the idea of damming this little pool and keeping it deep right here. That way, if we ever need it again, you won't have such a hard time, you and our children. We'll be safe here. The river will protect us. You're the executive officer; what do you think?”

She sobbed until her nose ran, and Paul wiped her face with a washcloth, humming “Redeemer” this time. Then it was over, her tears done. She looked at the cut bank and moved closer to it, remembering where she had barely stayed alive last summer, the roar of the burning trees overhead blotting out everything. She looked up. The trees were gone, and she saw the stars coming out.

“I… I think I was more afraid of the trees than the water,” she said finally. “It was as if the whole world was on fire. And then when those branches fell… Paul, I was so afraid, and I didn't want to die, because I loved you so much.”

“I'm still here, sport. I had the closest cottonwoods chopped down and hauled away last winter. I'll keep this area clear of trees, I'll add a dam, and we'll have a nice swimming hole for our children. Is that okay?”

She thought about it and touched her growing belly. “I'm a pretty good swimmer, and children should learn to swim. Yes, that's okay.”

She waded back to the bank and found the soap, breathing deep of the carbolic in it. “I like Lifebuoy. It's nice and red and cuts the dust on cowboys. Turn around, Paul. I'll scrub your back for a birthday present.”

“I already got my present, sport. Thanks for being as brave as I knew you were.”

Paul had ordered a single-bench buckboard, because he wanted to keep the rig light. “We can get a bigger one with more seats, if your waist expands a few more times.” He scratched his head. “Wonder what causes that.”

“You're hopeless,” Julia said as she stood nose to nose with the most beautiful bay she had ever seen. “And you are gorgeous, Maisie.”

“Maisie?”

“I used to name all my dolls Maisie. Don't look for logic, Paul. You know me too well.”

Considering how busy he was, Julia was flattered that Paul took the time to show her the whole process of getting Maisie to the buckboard. Colby had volunteered, but Paul had waved him away, which made the cowhand grin at her and tip his hat as he followed Matt.

Paul helped her onto the seat and took the reins, speaking to Maisie in Shoshone, as he always spoke to his horses.

“She's bilingual,” Julia joked.

“I only get smart horses, same as me. Oh, she does have a gentle mouth. Julia, I can't see this will be a problem for your shoulder at all. Here. Put your hands in front of mine and I'll gradually back off.”

She did as he said, holding her breath and then letting it out as Maisie seemed to straighten up, even from her perfect stride, and feel her lighter touch on the reins. “I think she knows it's me,” Julia whispered. “She likes my touch.”

“So do I. Take her out on the road and let's go visit the Cuddys. Keep the reins even and loose in your hands. You can trust Maisie.”

“Paul, can you take the time? That fall roundup is getting closer and closer.”

“For you, sport, I make the time. I want to make sure you can get to the Cuddys without pain.”

She would have liked the trip to the Cuddy's ranch to have lasted longer. Everyone was preparing for the fall roundup, and the only time she saw Paul alone was in their bedroom. She smiled to herself as she watched Maisie's ears. “This is nice. I like some time alone during the day with my best guy.”

“Things'll slack off after we ship the cattle.” He sighed. “The Association has moved my shipping schedule back two weeks. We won't ship until late October.”

“Oh, Paul!”

“Could have been worse,” he said with a shrug. “I've been in touch with my Chicago buyer, and he has no real problem with it. I'll have all my cattle behind bob wire for a longer time, which means I have to start feeding them hay sooner. So I'll buy more hay from my Goshen and Platte county connections.” He took off his Stetson and kissed her cheek. “Don't you worry, sport! That's an order.”

“I will though,” she told him. “It's what I do.”

She wouldn't have admitted it to Paul, but the hour and a half to the Cuddy ranch taxed her to the limit. Or maybe he did know, by the way he kept glancing at her when he thought she wasn't watching.

“Too much?” he asked, as they came to the ranch house.

“Almost,” she admitted, as she gently pulled back on the reins and Maisie stopped like a lady. “Of course, once I make a good visit of at least an hour, I'll be rested. Honest, Paul.”

He nodded and helped her down, as Elinore Cuddy opened the screen door and waved them inside. “You won't be doing this after snow flies, I'm afraid. Or if you do, I'll be along.”

Elinore embraced her and took a good look at the buckboard and Maisie. “You're rigged out in style!”

“I don't think I'm destined for the saddle anytime soon,” Julia said. She leaned closer. “My shoulder hurts a bit, but if you don't mind a long visit so I can rest it, I can manage by myself.”

“We'll plan on that,” she said, hugging Julia again. “Sometimes I get so hungry for a visit from a lady.” Elinore led her into the parlor, which reminded Julia forcefully of the Double Tipi ranch house last year. “I've been knitting soakers for you.” She looked at Paul, who stood in the doorway, hat in hand. “Paul, Allen's in the barn, unless you want to knit.”

He laughed and left the room.

Julia's eyes followed him. “He's my best guy,” she said, her voice soft.

“I'm still amazed at the difference a year and a half can make in one stoic, rather dour rancher,” Elinore said. She took up her knitting again, then put it down. “Where are my manners? Julia, do you feel more like eating now?”

“Anything that isn't nailed down or clearly labeled poison.”

They adjourned to the kitchen, where they could see Allen and Paul talking by the barn. Elinore put cookies on two plates and took one to the men, while Julia poured lemonade. Back in the parlor, they both knitted.

Julia was quiet, concentrating. She propped her feet on the footstool and observed her friend, grateful that Doc had thought to involve Elinore when the men of the Double Tipi were off the ranch.

“I want to thank you for being so willing to help me, if I needed assistance while Doc and Paul were gone,” Julia said. “Doc said he came over here and talked to you.”

She watched Elinore, surprised to see a slow flush rise from her neck and into her blonde hair. She tried to think of what she had said that would have embarrassed Elinore, whose face grew redder.
It's almost as if you're in love
, she thought, then gulped and looked at her needles as the reality came home to roost.
My goodness, sometimes I am so self-centered and dense
, Julia scolded herself. She put down her knitting.