Chapter 10

10

A distant clatter pulled Leah from the comfortable dream that clutched her. She sat up, trying to place her surroundings. The room was small and the cotton sheets were worn soft, cozier than the silk bed clothes she was accustomed to.

At last it came to her. Montana Territory. The Bryant Ranch. She sank back with a groan. She had finally made it—and there was nothing here for her after all. She needed to move on with Ol' Mose today.

After throwing back the covers, she rolled over to place her feet on the cool floor. The small movement made her muscles scream so much she had to bite her lower lip to keep from crying out. Before leaving Richmond, she'd never known she could hurt like this. And just from riding in a wagon…it was amazing.

Through sheer determination, she forced her muscles to go through the process of dressing in her navy suit again and pinning up her hair. It would be so wonderful to have a hot bath and fresh clothes, but that was not to be if she planned to leave with Ol' Mose right after breakfast. All her other clothes were still packed in trunks, tied down in the freight wagon.

He was usually ready to pull out by the time the sun crested the tops of the trees. She could already see daylight through the pale blue curtains over the window, so Mose was surely chomping at the bit. Probably just waiting to eat breakfast with Miriam and Mr. Bryant.

She checked her reflection one more time in the small oval mirror over the washbasin, then picked up her hat and pulled open the door.

In the cabin's main room, Miriam greeted her with a smile as she scraped white goo out of a frying pan. The kitchen held a medley of smells, but not anything Leah expected. No crackle of bacon or spicy aroma of cinnamon toast. Instead, it smelled of charcoal and grease and…maybe bread.

"G'mornin'." Miriam looked as fresh as a flower. Her cream-colored hair was platted in a long braid and wrapped in a knot on the back of her head. Today, she wore a faded blue dress, but her apron was clean and white, if a bit frayed. Her green eyes shone, even in the dimness of the cabin.

"Good morning," Leah murmured as she moved toward the kitchen. "I'm sorry I wasn't up to help you with breakfast. Is there something I can do now?" She looked around for an extra apron.

"Not a thing." Miriam wiped the goo from the frying pan into a tin jar. "I left you a plate of food and a mug on the table. The coffee on the stove is still hot."

Leah's mind jumped to alert. "You mean breakfast is over? Why didn't you wake me? Is Ol' Mose ready to go? I need to help him load up."

Before her flurry of questions was half finished, she'd pinned her hat in place and moved toward the door. Ol' Mose would be itching to leave if he had finished eating.

"Leah, wait."

She ignored the call as she hurried out the door and across the yard to the barn.

"Leah!"

After jerking open the big barn door, she stopped for a moment in the shadowy building to get her bearings. A row of stalls stretched down the right side, and a wagon stood in front of hay piled on the left—an empty wagon. No sign of Ol' Mose's freighter or the two tired mules.

Leah spun around to face a breathless Miriam. "Where is he? Has he taken the wagon with your brother somewhere?"

Miriam shook her head, panting from her wild dash to catch Leah. "That's…what I was…trying to tell you." She swallowed, her labored breathing slowing a little. "Ol' Mose left for Butte City this morning. Said he'd give us a chance to sort things out, and he'll stop on his way back through to check on you."

"Nooo…" Leah slumped against the side of the barn, thoroughly frustrated with the way things were going. He was supposed to take her with him. She needed to get to Butte and find work there.

Miriam tentatively stepped toward Leah, placing her hand on Leah's arm. "We can't just let you show up and leave again so soon. It wouldn't be right. We want you to stay on for a few days at least, until we figure out what to do next."

Still slumped against the barn, Leah raised her head. Miriam's eyes were so earnest. Did her own show her desperation? "But you and Mr. Bryant don't owe me anything. You didn't ask me here, and it's obvious your brother doesn't want me to stay. I need to make my own way, and the best place to start, at this point, is in Butte."

A mischievous look came over Miriam's face. "If I could have asked you here, I woulda. I've wanted a friend for so long now, you're like a gift from God, Leah Townsend."

It was hard not to smile at that. "My trunks?"

"They're in the cabin."

Finally, Leah let out a sigh. Maybe another day or two wouldn't matter so much. Pushing away from the barn, she wrapped a hand through the crook of Miriam's arm. "All right then, I'll stay until Ol' Mose comes back through. But then you needn't worry about me any more after that."

Leah couldn't believe how quickly the morning flew. As much as her body craved a warm bath and relaxation, she needed to earn her keep and not be a burden. So, she swept out the cabin while Miriam kneaded the bread dough for dinner. As they worked, the younger woman quizzed Leah about her trip on the steamboat. Then Miriam showed her how to clean out the barn and restock the hay and water in the stalls.

"We don't keep most of the animals in the barn at night during the summer months. Just Bethany, the milk cow, and Gideon's riding horse. The rest of ‘em run with the cattle, except the wagon team that stays in the corrals. We try not to feed hay any more than we have to. It's awful hard work to cut and store it." Miriam rolled her eyes to emphasize that last point.

Leah brushed hay from her gown. Her whole body ached, but she dared to ask, "So what do we do next?"

Miriam motioned her out of the barn. "Now we go check the garden to see if my tomato plants are surviving. I just moved them to the ground last week so I want to make sure they took root. And while we walk, you can tell me all about where you grew up. I think you said it was Virginia?"

"Yes, in Richmond."

Miriam's eyes twinkled with a faraway, dreamy look. "Is Richmond a big city? Like New York and Chicago? With balls and parties every week?"

Leah's lips curved a little. "I suppose Richmond is a big city, but not as big as New York. And yes, we had balls and parties—more often than I liked."

Miriam's eyes grew wide. "Did you wear those big hooped skirts and have servants to help you dress?"

"I wore hoops when they were the fashion. Now most of the skirts are slender through the sides but gather over big bustles in the back."

They had reached a large garden plot with little green plants in long neat rows. Miriam scanned the entire section, then made her way to some leafy green shoots about ten inches tall.

"And did you have servants to help you dress?"

The Bryants lived such a simple life, she hated to talk about the lavish way she'd lived. But she had to answer, so she nodded. Hopefully, Miriam wouldn't press for more details.

"And did you have servants to cook and clean for you? And drive your carriage? Did you have a carriage?"

She'd never realized so clearly how excessive and unnecessary that lifestyle had been. Had they really needed fifteen servants to keep house for herself and her father? But, it would have been unseemly for the Townsends to keep anything less.

"Did you, Leah?" Miriam looked up from where she was crouched by the plants.

Leah chose her words carefully. "We did have servants. And honestly, they were my closest friends. I used to giggle and play dolls with the housemaids when I was little. Then as I grew up, Emily was my companion and like an older sister to me."

"I've always wanted a sister." Miriam sighed wistfully. "I sort of had one a few years back, but she's gone now."

Leah raised an eyebrow, and Miriam explained. "Gideon took a wife a couple years after Pa and Mama died. But Jane died about a year after Gideon married her. I liked havin' her around, but she always wanted to stay cooped up in the cabin. I think she was afraid to be outside or somethin'. I'm not real sure why, though."

Poor Gideon. He'd lost everyone close to him except his baby sister—parents, wife, and now his brother. Is that why he was so quiet and somber? Despite their almost instant friendship, she didn't really know Miriam well enough to ask such a personal question.

Thankfully, Miriam rose to her feet and motioned for Leah to follow. "And speaking of Gideon, we'd better get the midday meal ready before he gets back or we'll have a grumpy man on our hands." Miriam's tone was light, but Leah could certainly imagine the man she'd seen last night might be grumpy—hungry or not.

Gideon did come in a short while later, the dog trotting by his leg. Miriam flashed her brother a warm smile as she poured white gravy over slices of bread.

"There he is. Ya hungry, big brother?"

He nodded, hanging his hat on the wall peg. "Yep."

Leah stopped pouring coffee into the mugs on the table when the dog trotted up to greet her. She bent down to stroke the animal, his tail waving like a flag.

"What's his name?" When she didn't receive an immediate answer, she glanced up at Miriam, then her brother, waiting for someone to respond. Miriam seemed to be purposely ignoring her.

Finally, Gideon spoke. "Drifter." His voice was deep and clear, but the man surely didn't mince words.

Leah focused again on the sweet animal who pressed his face into her hand, eager for more scratching. His body was covered with a sort of flea-bitten bluish-gray fur. His face was a black mask, divided down the forehead by a strip of gray. He seemed to be intelligent by the way he kept his ears focused with the sounds of the room.

"Hey there, Drifter," she crooned, rubbing the spots behind his ears with both thumbs. He responded by sharing a sloppy kiss which caught Leah right on the tip of her nose. A giggle sneaked out of her before she could stop it. "You're a lover, I see."

Just then a sharp, short whistle sounded, and Drifter lunged away from her, parking himself at Gideon's side.

"Stay." The sound came out so much like a growl, Leah almost missed that it was a word.

Silence fell over the room, and she had no idea what brought on the tension woven through the quiet. She glanced up at Gideon, who had seated himself at the table and lounged as if nothing was out of the ordinary. A quick look at Miriam showed a seething scowl aimed directly at her older brother.

Miriam broke the silence by carrying a tin plate of gravy to the other side of the kitchen, farthest away from the table. "Come'on, Drifter. I've got a treat for ya, boy."

Leah turned back, expecting the dog to trot eagerly toward the yummy stuff. He didn't, though. Despite his longing gaze toward the plate on the floor, he kept himself planted beside his master.

With a frustrated grunt, Miriam planted both hands on her hips and glared at her brother. "Gideon."

The unspoken dressing down seemed to work, for Gideon relented. "Go," he growled. The dog jumped to his feet and bounded across the room.

Somehow, there seemed to be an insult to her somewhere in Gideon's behavior—at least, Miriam seemed to think so—but the entire exchange was really rather amusing.

She'd never seen a dog so well-trained as Drifter, nor so devoted to his master. Why didn't Gideon want the dog to greet her though?

Whatever the case, the big brother loved his baby sister and just couldn't say no to her—a trait she appreciated a great deal in this case.