Louise M. - Cowboy to the Rescue

Nate gritted his teeth as he watched his father leave. Pasting on a more pleasant expression, he turned to the bed where Mr. Anders lay, his gaze on Nate.

“You get some rest, sir.” Nate bent forward to adjust the quilt. “If you need anything—”

“You’ve done a lot, young man.” The look of approval in his eyes caused a stirring in Nate’s chest. How would it feel if his father looked at him that way? “You’re a true Good Samaritan, just like the Good Book says.”

Nate cleared his throat. He wanted to say aw, shucks, like his youngest brother might. Instead, he offered, “Don’t mention it, sir. I’m glad to help. We all are.”

Mr. Anders coughed out a laugh, then grimaced and clutched his ribs. “I wouldn’t say all, son, but I’ll let it go at that.”

Nate took his leave, shutting the door behind him and offering a prayer for the old man’s recovery. At the top of the stairs, he hesitated. The Colonel had ordered him down to his office, but Nate couldn’t just go off and leave Susanna. He walked to Rosamond’s room and tapped on the door just as Mother swung it open.

“Nate.” She reached up to give him another welcoming hug. “Oh, it’s so good to have you back home. I miss you so much when you make these long trips for supplies. I don’t know why your father can’t just send some of the hired men.” She cast a quick look at Susanna, and her eyebrows arched briefly. She opened and shut her mouth as though she had started to ask him something, then changed her mind. Instead, she patted his cheek. “I’m going downstairs to finish helping Angela and Rita with the baking. Then we’ll prepare supper. You may stand right here in the doorway and speak to Miss Anders for two minutes. Then I expect to hear your boots on the downstairs floor fifteen seconds after that.”

Nate pursed his lips to suppress a grin. “Mother, Susanna and I have been out on the trail together for two days, with her father looking on the whole time. You don’t have to worry about any improper behavior.”

“Susanna, is it?” Mother looked at her. “And I suppose you call him Nate?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Susanna returned a sweet smile. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

“Hmm.” Mother got a speculative gleam in her eyes. “No, dear, not at all.” She swept past Nate, wearing a soft grin and watching him the whole time as she headed for the back stairs that led to her kitchen.

All of a sudden, the kerchief around Nate’s neck seemed awfully tight. Mother often teased him about girls. It seemed to him that was what most mothers did to their sons. But she’d never said anything so bold in front of a young lady.

“I hope you don’t mind her.” He leaned against the doorjamb, crossed his arms and offered Susanna an apologetic grimace.

“Not at all.” She untied her bonnet and hung it on the back of Rosamond’s desk chair. “She’s very kind and hospitable.” Now serious, she leveled a steady gaze on him. “I’m afraid your father is not quite so pleased to have us as guests.” Biting her lower lip, she stared out the window. “Maybe we should go back to the café. It seems Mr. and Mrs. Williams would be—”

“No.” Nate spoke more sharply than he intended, and she blinked. “I mean, they’re the salt of the earth, but they run their place without help, so it might be a burden for them. We have servants and cowhands and a big family.” He rolled his hat in his hands. “Besides, I feel it’s my responsibility to see that your father gets back on his feet.” That thought had just come to him. Yet hadn’t the biblical Good Samaritan taken responsibility for the beaten merchant even after taking him to the inn? Nate knew he could do no less.

Susanna’s blue eyes were rimmed with tears. “I don’t know what to say.”

He barked out a laugh that didn’t sound quite as cheerful as he intended. “I do. We’re having steak for supper, and I can’t wait to bite into a big juicy one.”

Smiling again, she laughed, too. “You mean no beans?”

“Nathaniel Northam!” The Colonel’s voice thundered up the staircase.

Nate gave an artificial shudder. She didn’t need to know how much he was truly quaking inside over his father’s angry summons.

“That’s right. No beans.”

Her soft feminine laughter followed him all the way down the stairs, and he barely had time to wipe the grin off his face before stepping into the Colonel’s office for his scolding—undeserved but nonetheless expected.

Chapter Five

Susanna’s laughter died away, and with it her good feelings. Unless she’d missed something, Nate didn’t deserve to be yelled at or scolded like a mischievous boy. In her opinion, it was that Yankee colonel who needed a scolding, and she would be glad to give it to him. He had a noble, good-hearted son, and yet he was beating him down for no good reason.

She’d noticed the difference in Nate the minute they arrived at the ranch. For two days, she’d watched a capable, authoritative, helpful man take care of business. But the moment his father stepped out the front door, Nate became an awkward servant trying without success to please an implacable master.

An uncomfortable sensation stirred in her stomach. Back home in Georgia, it wasn’t just the carpetbaggers who mistreated people. She’d seen for herself how some Southerners treated their former slaves as if no war had happened, as if no Emancipation Proclamation had freed them. She was thankful Daddy and Mama got rid of the plantation and moved to town. There they didn’t have to deal with such things as getting enough people to work in the cotton fields, work they’d always done as slaves but now had to be paid for. The house servants Susanna’s parents had employed received a salary and were well treated. She’d never heard Daddy or Mama speak to a servant like the Colonel spoke to his own son. The Southern man she married would need to understand she expected no less for their servants.

Weariness once again overtook her. She untied and slipped off her walking boots and lay on the bed, but could not sleep. Despite Nate’s being a Yankee, she must somehow find a way to pay him back for his kindness. Even knowing the trouble he would get into with his father, he had saved Daddy and her from untold grief, perhaps even death. That was worthy of a reward of some kind. But what could she do? The Northams were obviously wealthy ranchers, so he didn’t need any material repayment. All she could do was pray and let the Lord work things out.

Her eyelids grew heavy, but she managed to whisper a prayer for Nate to make it through his current scolding without too much difficulty. Even if he was a Yankee...

* * *

“Did you check the entire shipment before you loaded it up?” The Colonel stood behind his large oak desk, bracing himself on his fists as he leaned forward in a threatening pose. With him standing, Nate didn’t dare sit down, no matter how weary he was from his travels. “Every plate? Every cup?”

An unfamiliar thread of assurance wove briefly through Nate’s chest, just before the more familiar anger roared up and closed his throat. Of course he’d checked the shipment before loading it onto the wagon. How stupid did the Colonel think he was that he would have the horses haul home a broken cargo? But a bitter retort never got him anyplace, so he said, “Yessir. Everything was in perfect condition.” He made sure he spoke loudly, clearly and respectfully so his father wouldn’t have further cause to yell.

Yet he couldn’t leave it at that. “It was a good thing Miss Anders was with us.”

Snorting, the Colonel straightened and stared at him as if surprised he would offer additional information without being asked.

Nate hurried on. “When we got to the river, she suggested that we take it over on the train. I mean, the water was fast, and when we took their wagon through first, we drove over a lot of rocks and branches. So I flagged down the train and—”