Chapter 19

19

L eah pushed hard against the man, but his hands gripped her thigh and arm. She pulled his hair with one hand and pushed against his chest with the other.

Using every ounce of strength she possessed, she forced her way out of his grasp. But her right leg wouldn't bear her weight, and she couldn't get her left leg under her before she went down on the floor in a heap.

In an instant, the man knelt over her, pinning both arms to the wood floor. She struggled, trying to kick him. But he had the benefit of a better position.

A noise drifted into her subconscious. A man's voice—far away? She screamed.

He swore, then bent low to push his elbow into Leah's mouth. The stench of it—of him—convulsed her stomach. She fought for air, desperation clawing at her throat.

Vile words spewed from his mouth, and he glanced at his knife on the table. She forced herself to slow her fighting. Maybe he would think the struggle had exhausted her. If she could get him to reach for the knife, she could get enough leverage to escape his grasp.

He took the bait and reached for the knife, keeping one hand locked around her right wrist. She screamed with all her might and scrambled hard to scoot away.

The cabin door burst open, and the villain over her froze. A man, silhouetted in the door frame, held a gun pointed directly at the dirty bum.

"Get away from her or I'll blow yer brains out." The voice was a hard growl, but held an undertone Leah recognized.

Ol' Mose.

She took the opportunity to scoot backward, far away from her captor. Her heart overflowed with relief. God, thank you!

While Ol' Mose kept the gun on the man, Leah hobbled to the barn to retrieve a rope. Bless Gideon, the rope was hanging on the barn wall just where she hoped it would be. The braided twine was heavy as she hauled it back to the house. Inside, she held it out to Ol' Mose, but he jerked his head in the direction of the vagrant.

"You go ‘head an' tie him while I keep this gun focused on his heart."

Her hands shook as she moved behind the man. His body odor was enough to send her back outside, but she held her breath and set to work with the rope. When she'd tied the last knot, she backed away, her legs barely supporting her weight.

Ol' Mose gave her a look, his eyes softening. "Miz Townsend, you go on and git yerself situated while I take care o' this varmint."

"Are you sure?"

He moved in, nudging her out of the way. "Sure as shootin'."

The two men left the cabin, Ol' Mose pushing the cad with his gun and spewing a steady stream of insults about the man's character.

It was at least a half hour before Ol' Mose came back into the cabin. Leah had put her appearance back together, brewed another pot of coffee, steeped a cup of chamomile tea for herself, and was about to come looking for her friend, just in case the drifter might have found a way to get the upper hand.

As Ol' Mose entered, Leah rose from her chair, and hobbled with her crutch to take his hat. He must have read the expression on her face, for he gave her a wink as he handed off the felt piece.

"Don't you worry, missy. He won't be causin' you no more trouble."

She tried to offer a smile, but it was weak, at best. "Please come sit. I have fresh coffee and can offer you what cinnamon rolls he didn't eat."

"Can't say as I could pass up an offer like that." He pulled out a chair at the table and collapsed into it. "Where's Gideon and the li'l gal?"

Leah filled his mug. "They're branding today." She tried to say it as if branding were the most natural thing in the world, spoken in all the society parties in Richmond—not something she'd heard of for the first time that morning. "I expect them back around dark, but I hope you'll stay until they get here. I know they'll want to see you." And the thought of being left alone brought a wave of panic.

"Wouldn't dream of missin' em." He leaned back in his chair, cradling the warm cup in both hands. "You sure are a sight fer sore eyes, Miz Townsend. When I left here a few weeks ago, I weren't sure you'd be stayin' longer than it'd take ya to hike out. Meant to come back through in a couple days, but ol' Slip come down with the fever an' I had to git him to Helena lickety-split. I didn't want you takin' ill, neither."

A sober expression took over his face. "I hope it ain't been a hardship for ya to stay. The Bryants is good folk or I wouldn'ta left you so long."

His concern eased some of the tension in her shoulders. "It's not been a hardship at all…except for this little episode today."

"I'm awful sorry." His face took on such a grandfatherly warmth she wanted to crawl into his lap.

It took the rest of the afternoon, but Leah's nerves finally settled from the incident with the drifter. He was safely tied to Ol' Mose's wagon wheel in the barn, where he would stay until her friend drove him to the sheriff's office in Butte City the next morning.

While she finished final preparations for the evening meal, she listened for Gideon and Miriam's arrival. She had to catch them before they made it to the barn and saw the man tied to the wagon. But the sound of boots thumping on the front porch was her first alert of the Bryants' return.

Leah stood at the cook stove and Ol' Mose sat at the table when the cabin door flung open. Gideon stood in the doorway, his hand clasping Miriam's elbow, while she peered around his large frame. His eyes scanned the room, stopping briefly on the old freighter, but finally settling on Leah.

"What's going on here?" Gideon growled the question.

She met his gaze with a calm that surprised her. "We had a visitor today. But Ol' Mose was nice enough to stop by and help me with him. I'm assuming you met in the barn?"

"Who is he?" Gideon directed this question to Ol' Mose, his voice still a growl. He kept his grip on Miriam's arm, as though he wouldn't release her until he knew every detail about the situation.

"Some ol' varmint that stopped in fer a meal. Yer Miz Townsend had him prayin' fer mercy by the time I showed up, though. A feisty one, she is. No need to worry none ‘bout her." His face split into the toothy grin she'd come to love.

Gideon stepped into the cabin then and released Miriam's arm. His face still held a wary look, like he was expecting a bobcat to spring from the loft or a man with a rifle to jump from the bedroom.

"Come on in and have a seat. Supper's nice and warm for you." Leah infused her voice with calm and the sweet Southern drawl she'd spent years perfecting.

"Sounds good to me." Miriam headed for the stove. "I'll pour the coffee."

The table that night saw the liveliest conversation it had witnessed in many moons. Gideon's shoulders finally relaxed, and Leah's cheeks began to ache halfway through the meal from her continuous laughter at Ol' Mose's tales. He was a master storyteller to be sure, describing even the most commonplace account in a way that kept them on the edge of their hard oak seats.

"Did ya hear about Cap'n La Barge bein' arrested?"

A gasp escaped her at the familiar name. "What happened?"

Ol' Mose's face took on an I-knew-it-would-happen look. "He got caught sellin' whiskey to the Indians. Seems he brought a bunch o' the stuff on the boat you were on, Miz Townsend."

Leah's chest tightened at the news. "But he seemed like a respectable man."

Ol' Mose shrugged. "He's a business man. Prob'ly thought he'd found a way to earn some extra dollars. That reminds me of the time ol' Joe Meek was tryin' to save his woman from the Crow." And he was off on another of his wild stories.

A soft chuckle even came from Gideon's direction a few times through the evening. Especially when Ol' Mose told about the time he'd been traveling with a man named Marsh who continually bragged about his skills as a horseman. "We passed through a bit o' prickly pear an' a sticker musta got under the tail of Marsh's horse. Afore you could say ron-de-vu', Marsh was layin' spread out on top of a whole bed o' those prickles. It took us more'n a bit to git him out."

After adding his own grin to the general laughter that followed, Mose leaned forward to shove the last of his cinnamon roll through his whiskers. After swallowing the bite and licking his lips, he leaned back in his chair. "Miz Townsend, I do believe you're becomin' quite the cook. These sweet rolls are better'n I've tasted in a month o' Wednesdays."

Heat flooded her face, but she managed a "thank you."

"Are you plannin' to stick around these parts then?" He jutted his chin toward the crutch leaning against the table. "Once yer healed up, that is."

"No, sir." She kept her voice strong. She didn't want Miriam and Gideon to think she planned to sponge off of them indefinitely. "I'll be moving to Helena to find work as soon as my leg is healed."

A soft chuckle floated from the man. "Seems to me, ya won't be workin' long. Those young bucks in Helena ain't gonna let a pretty li'l gal like you go unmarried." He gave Gideon's forearm a friendly shove. "I'll bet any red-blooded man in that town'd give his eye teeth to get a bride purty as her who can cook suppers like this." He waved a hand around the dirty dishes on the table.

Determination surged through her. "Sir, I can assure you, I am not planning to marry any time soon. All the men in Helena may rest assured their eye teeth will remain securely within their possession."

Silence met her declaration. Even Miriam's wide green eyes revealed shock. Leah kept her shoulders squared, though, and her chin raised. She meant every word.

Then a high cackle came from Ol' Mose, as he slapped the table hard enough to make his tin plate bounce. "Yer all right, girlie. I think yer gonna do just fine."

Gideon matched his steps to the old trapper's as they made their way to the barn. Drifter had been curled at Leah's feet when they'd left the cabin, enjoying a good ear scratch. He'd just as soon the dog stay with her anyway to keep an eye on things. The animal had made it clear he was partial to their pretty visitor too.

While they ambled, his eyes drifted upward to the stars glittering in the wide Montana sky. They carpeted the dark background, each competing to outshine the lights around it.

"It's awful nice tonight, ain't it?" The sky must have caught Ol' Mose's attention, too.

Gideon nodded, keeping his focus on the heavens.

Finally, he spoke the question that had his mind bound tight. "You gonna tell me what happened?"

The old trapper released a sigh. "When I got here, the girl was holdin' her own." A pause. "I don't know how things woulda ended, but I know fer a fact the Maker does. And I trust what He decides."

Gideon didn't have an answer for that. Wasn't ready to open himself to the idea that God had any plan at all, much less a better one. So he held his silence.

A moment later, the old man spoke again. "You've got a real nice piece o' land here, Bryant. Prettiest in these parts. God's given ya quite a blessing."

Something burned the back of Gideon's throat, but he swallowed it back down. "It's a lot of hard work."

Mose's shrewd gaze pressed into him. "How are things goin' for ya, son?"

Gideon swallowed again. How honest should he be? He really didn't have anyone to confide in. Miriam maybe, but his sister carried so much burden already with the house and gardens.

And she was just a kid still. It was good she had Leah to help with things now. For a little while, anyway. He released a breath and ran a hand through his hair. The short locks still felt strange, but kept him cooler in this hot weather.

"Well…" He paused, his mind working to string together the right words. "I'm short-handed with the stock. Not sure how things'll go through the winter."

Ol' Mose nodded. "You thinkin' to hire someone on?"

"Maybe." He'd been struggling with that idea for a while, actually. He just couldn't bring himself to replace Abel. Not until he had to. It didn't seem right for a stranger to be working alongside him where his brother should be.

The older man was quiet for a few moments as they both stood in the middle of the yard, staring into the night sky. His mind drifted back toward the house. For some reason, he didn't think of Leah as a stranger working on the ranch. He'd gotten used to her presence around the place, had come to enjoy it really. She seemed to fit right in. And she acted like she didn't mind the work or the remote life. She was a bit of a mystery, the way she'd come from such a wealthy background, but jumped right into work with the rest of them.

"So how're things going with your pretty houseguest?"

Had his thoughts been so transparent? Gideon kicked at a clump of oatgrass, his gaze no longer turned upward. "Fine, I reckon."

"I see she's turnin' out to be quite a cook."

Gideon shrugged, trying to keep his manner as casual as possible. "She does all right for a city girl."

A snort erupted from the man at his side. "She might be a city gal, but she's got more gumption than most men I've seed raised in the back-country."

Gideon didn't respond and Ol' Mose allowed the silence to settle again. The words were true. Leah'd shown gumption in the way she'd handled the pain of her broken leg, the way she'd pushed herself to help with every chore she could, the way she'd learned how to cook better than Miriam in just four weeks.

She didn't fear this mountain life the way Jane had. No, Leah embraced it. That day when he first saw her in the kitchen of their little cabin, he never would have expected it.

"Ya know." Ol' Mose's shaky voice broke through Gideon's thoughts. "A wise ole trapper I knowd once used to say ‘Don't ever judge a book by its cover'. I reckon he meant to always give a person a fair chance to prove their mettle. No makin' an opinion 'cause of something that happened to you awhile back."

How exactly did this man do it? Were Gideon's thoughts that evident? He stared into the blackness in the direction of the road. He had assumed Leah's background would make her just as frightened of the mountain as his deceased wife had been. After one look at her in that little hat and the fancy dress with all the ruffles, he'd formed an opinion. But she was starting to convince him he may have been wrong.

He turned and pulled a hand from his pocket to clap the old man on the shoulder. "Sounds like your trapper friend was a smart man."

Ol' Mose gave him a grin that seemed to say I'm glad you saw the light, then he nodded. "He was, at that. Now it's time for me to git these ol' bones bedded down. I'll be headed out again in the mornin'."