A Bride For Dalton Read online

  Bert mulled over the details she shared. “Dalton’s gonna be some surprised when he comes in. He sets a store by his uncle but I don’t know what he’ll do about this.”

  “When will he be back?”

  He rubbed at his jaw. “Don’t expect him back until tomorrow evening. They’re camping out on the range until they’re finished with the calves.”

  She took a deep breath and pled her case, “Will you let me stay here? I have nowhere else to go and not enough money to get anywhere even if I did. Dalton’s uncle paid my fare here.”

  What would she do if he insisted she go and used his rifle to make her? How could she even leave since the Heflin boys had already headed back to town?

  He shook his head. “Ain’t up to me to decide. This is Dalton’s ranch so that’s between you and him. Meantime, since his uncle sent you don’t reckon it’ll hurt if I set your trunks inside. You can stay upstairs in a guest room.”

  “Thank you, Bert.” Relief swept through her. She was so tired she could barely stand. At least she’d have a place to sleep tonight.

  “Try the first one at the top of the stairs. I’m warning you I don’t clean the upstairs. That’s Dalton’s area so you’ll have to make do.”

  “I’ll manage just fine. Right now, I’ll get the groceries.”

  He tugged the three trunks into the parlor. Between the parlor and kitchen a wide arch let her see both rooms. The trunks took up the spare space in the parlor part of the house.

  What appeared to be river stones had been used to build the parlor fireplace. A red plush sofa and a couple of armchairs provided seating. Past the staircase a shadowy hall gave her the impression downstairs included at least a couple more rooms.

  She set the groceries on the table and unloaded the boxes. There were six chairs around the table. An older range looked usable and sat against an outside wall. A pie safe, free-standing cabinet, shelves, and an enamel-topped work table provided storage space and room to work. Thank goodness the sink included a pump so water wouldn’t have to be carried from outside.

  Bert watched her putting food on shelves. “We have stuff to cook with and plenty of beans so you didn’t need to get this.”

  He poked at the spices. “Don’t guess we have fancy stuff like those. What do you do with them?”

  “Mostly they’re to use in desserts.”

  A big grin split his face. “Yee Haw, I sure like the sound of that.”

  “If I’m to be useful you’ll need to tell me how many people eat here and where the meat, milk, and eggs are kept.”

  His face hardened. “Dalton and me are the only ones who live inside the house. The other three hands eat in the kitchen but sleep in the bunkhouse. I’ll show you where the rest of the food is kept.”

  He walked to a small door in the floor. “Here’s the cold well for keeping milk and such cool. Best to look real good before you stick in your hand. I never have seen one but Dalton said a snake or some other critter could get in there if it was of a mind to.”

  After going to the other end of the kitchen, he opened a trap door and showed her a steep stairway. “This here is the root cellar. Critters can get in here, too, but I’ve never seen anything but spiders or a salamander. I grow a big garden every summer. Widow Dixon in town cans on the halves for us. Have to save the jars she uses. ’Course we’re getting low on everything now but I’ve started planting for this year and we have a good stand so far.”

  “It’s convenient you have that arrangement. Perhaps she’ll teach me how to can food if I promise she’ll still get halves.” She wondered at the age of this widow. Was Dalton attracted to her?

  “Dalton also does a lot of repairs for the widow. She’s all alone and older with no children, see, so there’s no one to do for her. I believe she sells some of the produce we furnish her on the halves. Pretty sure one little old lady can’t eat that much.”

  He closed the root cellar opening and strode to the door. “Follow me to the porch and I’ll show you the smokehouse. You don’t need to go out there. I’ll cut off whatever meat you want.”

  She stepped outside as he requested and saw the thin trail of smoke rising from a building that appeared about ten feet by eight. “I guess you’ve been the cook here, is that right?”

  “For me and Dalton when we was the only ones here. He’s not much of a hand in the kitchen. Now I cook for all of us. Them other three ain’t been around long and I don’t reckon they’ll stick much longer. That’s neither here nor there. I’ll be happy if you stay and take over cooking.”

  She wondered what the story was of the obvious animosity between Bert and the other three cowboys. “I suppose I’d better get busy cooking your lunch and decide what to serve for supper. Are you sure Dalton and the others won’t be in tonight?”

  He shook his head and offered a wheezy chuckle. “Ain’t nothing for sure in the ranching business. I’m guessing he won’t show up before tomorrow night about sundown. There’s plenty left from my yesterday’s supper to do us for lunch. If you’re not up to it I’ll take care of setting food on the table tonight. Reckon you’re tired after your travel.”

  “Thank you, Bert. I’m more tired than I ever remember being. That stage bounced me so much I’m surprised my teeth didn’t loosen. I’m sure a meal will restore my energy.”

  After she’d eaten she did feel better. “I believe before I clean up the kitchen I’ll bake a couple of loaves of bread. We can have some for supper.” She wanted to impress Bert in the hope he’d give Dalton a good report.

  Bert rubbed his hands together and grinned. “I sure would love some homemade light bread.”

  She gave Buddy’s head several pats. “Will that be all right with you, boy? Do you eat people food?”

  “I make his meals out of crumbled biscuits and chopped meat. If there is any, I add gravy.”

  “Pets are a lot of company. I guess he warns you if someone’s coming, too.”

  “Dalton brought Buddy to me after my accident. I was feeling pretty low. Found the dog half-starved on the road. Brought him in and told me he’d brought me a buddy to help me get well.”

  “So that’s where he got his name? I’m sure he’s been a good companion.”

  “That he has. Guess Buddy and me will go off to work in the garden. You call out if you need anything.” He and his dog went outside.

  Rebecca quickly mixed the dough and set it to rise covered with a cup towel. While she waited, she swept the kitchen and made a fresh pot of coffee. She took one of her valises to the guest room Bert had suggested.

  By suppertime, she had two steaming loaves of bread and had put the butter and a jar of jam on the table. In her trunks were proper dishes but for now she used Dalton’s speckled-enamel covered plates. She reheated the beans a final time and had supper ready when Bert and Buddy came into the kitchen.

  Bert took a seat. “Nothing better than warm bread. Whole house smells good, too.” He cut a couple of slices and laid them on his plate.

  While she was pouring their coffee, he sampled the bread before she could mention saying grace.

  He closed his eyes and chewed. “Better than I’ve ever eaten. You’re gonna work out just fine if you do this well with every meal.”

  She wasn’t vain, at least she didn’t think she was. Having Bert’s good reaction relieved her. “I have had compliments on my cooking. I hope I can impress Dalton so he’ll let me stay.”

  “Man’s no fool, so I think you can count on staying here.”

  Between them, they ate half a loaf of bread.

  She knew Bert’s leg was bothering him because his limp was worse than when she’d arrived. Working in the garden must be hard on him. Lugging her trunks inside probably contributed to his limp.

  “You can go on to bed if you trust me alone. I’ll clean up the dishes and then go up myself.”

  He rubbed his hip. “If you’re sure then I believe Buddy and me will head for bed. I wouldn’t tell Dalton, but I tripped in the garden
and didn’t do myself any good.”

  “Bert, you should have told me. Do you have liniment or anything to help?”

  “Have some horse liniment in my room and I’ll slap some on before I crawl into bed. I’ll be fine after a night’s sleep.” He locked the front door and went toward the back of the house.

  She was about to pour out the coffee but decided one more cup would be nice. After she refilled her cup, she took it out to the front porch. Sitting in the rocking chair, she inhaled the clean air. A full moon sent silver light across the ground. What a beautiful evening.

  Once she was still, her body reminded her she needed a bed. Reluctantly, she went back into the house and rinsed her cup before going up to bed. She believed she could sleep for a week.

  Furious barking awakened her. For a moment she was disoriented and fought to get her bearings. Moonlight through the window let her see objects in the room that reminded her where she was.

  From downstairs Bert yelled, “Buddy, come here and leave them critters alone.”

  She grabbed her robe and lit a lamp then went downstairs.

  Buddy raced back and forth. Brown furry animals ran from the dog and scattered in every direction.

  Rebecca yelped when one ran close to her without her seeing what it was. “What are those? Do they attack?”

  Bert scratched his jaw. “Raccoons. They must have smelled that bread a baking.”

  She gasped at the mess. “The bread, they’ve eaten the bread.” The cup towel was on the floor and nothing but crumbs remained of the loaf-and-a-half of bread she’d left on the table.

  “Sure hate that ’cause that was the best durn bread I ever ate. They’re smart animals but I thought I locked the door so nothing nor nobody could get inside.”

  A sinking feeling forced her to admit, “Oh, no, it was me. I took a cup of coffee and went to sit in the rocker on the porch. I thought I closed the door when I came back inside but obviously I didn’t.”

  “They’re tricky and can open things you wouldn’t believe. Buddy, Buddy, get over here.” Bert grabbed a broom. “Shoo, shoo, you bread-stealing varmints. Get out that door.”

  Instead, two ran toward the back of the house and two more up the stairs. Buddy ran after them. She hadn’t known a dog could run up stairs so fast. The largest one turned and snarled at the dog. Buddy slowed down but still barked.

  Rebecca took a deep breath and braced herself. “You wait here, Bert. I’m the one who didn’t close the door properly. If you’ll try to oust the two down here, I’ll tackle the two upstairs.”

  She had no idea how she’d coax them downstairs and out the door. Wouldn’t you know she’d do something stupid her first day? Now Dalton would send her away for sure.

  “Take the mop. That’ll help.” Bert retrieved the mop and gave it to her.

  Heart pounding, she climbed the stairs ready for battle. She’d never seen a live raccoon up close. What good would a mop do against one that large?

  She’d closed her door this morning but entry to the other rooms upstairs were open wide. First, she had to get the dog away before he was bitten or his eyes scratched by the raccoon’s long nails. She tugged and tugged until she got to the room she used. Quickly she opened the door and shoved Buddy inside before she closed the door.

  Poor dog was frantic. He was only trying to protect his family. The banging sounded as if he was throwing himself against the door.

  Meanwhile, she took the mop and returned to the room where one raccoon had been. She was afraid to light a lamp in case it was knocked over and set the house on fire. Moonlight offered help but she needed more illumination. The animal was still there, but on the bed, pawing at the coverlet.

  Did it look as if it were frothing at the mouth? Oh, there was something white on the fur—was it froth? The animal turned so a shaft of moonlight showed bread crumbs around its mouth.

  She almost laughed in relief. A hysterical little giggle hiccupped out of her. Crumbs were better than frothing.

  “Get down from there.” She swung the mop at him—she supposed it was a male. The animal responded by darting off the bed and underneath it. Sweeping the mop under the bed, she bounced against the raccoon’s rump.

  At first he attacked the mop.

  “It’s not a game. Get out from there.” She crawled partway under the bed and plunged the mop at the frightened animal.

  He darted out from under the bed and would have run toward another room. She shoved the mop at him to turn him and get him headed down the stairs. He had dust bunnies stuck to his fur.

  “Here comes one, Bert.” She supposed she looked as dusty as the raccoon had.

  “I’m ready for it.”

  She carefully searched the room and didn’t find the second raccoon. When she exited, she closed the door behind her. There were two more rooms.

  As quietly as she could, she searched the next bedroom. There was nothing there but a dark trail of scat. She’d clean that later. Now the priority was getting rid of the animal.

  Closing that door behind her, she advanced to the only remaining room. Oh, dear, this must be Dalton’s room. Please don’t let this raccoon damage any of Dalton’s things.

  There the largest of the furry, intimidating things was on the bureau. This was the one that growled at Buddy. She proceeded hesitantly.

  “Come on, Mr. Raccoon. Time to go home.” She poked the mop at him. At least she supposed the animal was a male. Surely females didn’t get that large.

  She must be out of her mind. What difference did it make whether the animal was male or female? The raccoon needed to be out of the house.

  He leapt from there to the top of the armoire.

  “That’s not a good place to be. Come down now.”

  She felt like an idiot talking to the raccoon but he looked at her as if he understood. Maybe he’d been someone’s pet at one time and wasn’t afraid of humans. But, this human was a bit afraid of him.

  Using the mop, she swept the top of the armoire. The animal growled at her.

  She didn’t know how to respond so she growled back.

  He stared at her then jumped onto the bed. As he landed, more scat emerged and landed on the coverlet.

  She stared in horror. “No, no, no, you can’t poop on Dalton’s bed. He’ll make me sleep in the barn. Why aren’t you out there anyway? I’ll bet you could figure out how to get inside. There’s hay, oats, and who knows what else to eat?”

  The animal watched her as she edged to the opposite side of the bed then shoved the mop at him. “Your friends or family are already outside. They’re waiting for you. Hurry. Get out of here.”

  The raccoon swatted at the mop and almost succeeded in knocking it from her hand.

  “Oh, no, you don’t, mister. You get out of here now. You’ve succeeded in making me angry. I will not be outwitted by a raccoon no matter how clever you are.”

  She used the mop like a fencer with his sword. As she did, she yelled, “Out,” over and over.

  The frightened animal took off down the hall toward the stairs.

  She raced after him. “Bert, here comes the last one.”

  “I see him.”

  With a heavy sigh she returned to Dalton’s room. She used her handkerchief to wrap the scat and stuffed the bundle into her robe’s pocket. She straightened the cover on his bed and hoped it looked as he’d left it.

  Before she went downstairs, she collected the poop from the other bedroom. She doubted she’d ever use this handkerchief again.

  Without letting Buddy out, she stepped into the room she’d used and washed her hands. When she saw her reflection in the mirror, she was shocked. Her mother would have said she looked like a wild woman.

  She would have been correct. Her braid had come undone and hair stuck out in every direction. Dust and dust bunnies stuck to her, no doubt thanks to crawling under the bed.

  After collecting a fresh handkerchief, she held Buddy by his collar. At the head of the stairs she called down to see
if Bert had been successful.

  “Bert, is it safe to let Buddy free?”

  “All clear down here.”

  She released the wriggling Buddy, who sniffed the floor and corners as he went down the stairs. Rebecca walked down until she reached the landing. Fatigue hit her and she sat on the stairs.

  Bert looked up at her. “That was the biggest raccoon I ever seen. Hey, you okay?”

  “He almost won. I learned a hard lesson. Next time, I’ll make sure the door is firmly shut.” She rose and went to the kitchen.

  Buddy was still sniffing as if to insure the intruders had gone.

  Bert chuckled. “Well, no harm done. I hadn’t shot the bolt since… well, never mind.” His chuckle turned into laughter. “If it’d been a bear, we’d both be in the barn right now.”

  “I’m getting rid of animal scat deposited by that big one.” She put the handkerchief and all in the slop jar. “I’m sorry you were wakened because I didn’t lock the door correctly. I hope this hasn’t made you hurt more.”

  He laughed so hard he had to sit on a chair. “Reckon things are gonna be a lot more interesting now you’ve showed up.”

  Relief that he was laughing swept through her. She finally joined in with his laughter, not at all hysterical this time. Why, she’d scared the poop right out of those poor things. And she’d definitely learned something about raccoons tonight. Living on a ranch was going to be an educational experience.

  A thought sudden brought her laughter to an abrupt halt. “Um, Bert, do we have to tell Dalton about the raccoons?”

  Still laughing, he slapped his thigh. “Not far as I’m concerned. Sure would make a funny story, though.”

  “Maybe later, much later.” Like years from now—if she was allowed to stay.

  She climbed the stairs to return to bed, grateful that raccoons instead of a bear had come inside. Thank goodness Bert had a sense of humor. Tomorrow she’d spruce up the house and cook a nice meal to greet Dalton when he arrived home. Maybe that would convince him to marry her and let her stay.

  Where did she stand legally? She had no grounds for a claim on him. What could she do if he refused her?