Linda Ford - The Cowboy's City Girl

Maisie took a piece of meat without comment.

The rest of the food was passed around.

Charlie grunted as he spooned out some peas. “Still got water on them.” He edged the vegetables from the bowl.

Conversation died as everyone tackled the food. Levi tried to cut through his potato. It was as hard as a marble in the center. The lumpy, gluey gravy did not make it go down easier.

Maisie bravely ate the food on her plate, though he wondered how she could get it down.

Charlie rearranged his.

Levi put a piece of burnt meat in his mouth, choked a little and washed the food down with a glass of water. His eyes watered.

“I’m sorry.” Beatrice pushed her chair back and bolted outside.

Chapter Three

Shock burned through Levi’s veins as he stared at the door through which Beatrice had disappeared. He’d said nothing about the ruined meal. “She mustn’t have followed your directions,” he said by way of apology to Maisie.

“She did the best she could. The poor girl has never been faced with this kind of work before.”

Charlie grabbed the two remaining pieces of burnt meat. “Better’n starving,” he said and downed them with the aid of several glasses of water.

Maisie chased the remaining food around on her plate. “Try and picture yourself fitting into her world. I expect you’d feel clumsy and ill-at-ease.”

Levi jerked to his feet and scraped his plate into the slop bucket. “At least the pigs will enjoy the food.” He faced Maisie. “I’m sorry to foist this woman on you. Charlie, where’s your sister? I’ll get her to help Maisie.”

Before Charlie could answer, Maisie pushed herself upright, then lowered her foot to the floor.

He sprang forward. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t say what I need to say while looking and feeling like an invalid.” She grimaced.

When he started to protest, she held up her hand. “Levi, I want you to give Beatrice a chance. She needs to be here.”

“What? Why?”

Maisie gave him a look that he’d years ago learned to respect. “God has brought her here for a reason and I, for one, am grateful for her company. Don’t let knowing she’s from high society prejudice you.”

“Me? Prejudiced? Haven’t you got that backward?”

“I don’t think so. I know you are a fine young man, worthy of any young woman. Do you know it?”

“Of course I do. But what difference does it make in this situation? The only thing I want from Beatrice is for her to help you.”

Maisie nodded, her look gently reprimanding. “I wouldn’t want to see you denying the call of your heart.”

What on earth was she talking about? “The call of my heart? What’s that?” He half mocked, but his affection and respect for Maisie kept him from voicing his true feeling on the subject. It would be his head that he followed, not his heart.

“I hope and pray that someday you will hear it and be brave enough to listen to it.” Before he could protest, she hurried on. “Now go apologize to that young lady and persuade her to join us again.” She lifted her leg back to the stool and leaned back, sure her orders would be obeyed.

“You better do it,” Charlie said. “You know Aunt Maisie always gets her way.”

“Thank you, Charlie,” Maisie said, seemingly happy to be described that way.

Levi strode to the door, jerked it open and stepped outside. He closed his eyes and tried to gather his thoughts and calm his mind. He’d said nothing about the meal. Why should he apologize? He opened his eyes, expecting to see her in a weeping heap nearby. Instead, she stood before the rose bush Maisie cherished and lovingly wrapped every fall to protect it through the winter. When he was done here, he would cut some of the fresh flowers and take them inside for Maisie to enjoy.

Beatrice touched the dusky pink petals of one of the blossoms then bent over to inhale the sweet scent. Hearing him approach, she slowly lifted her head, her eyes wary.

He forgot everything that had been said inside. He forgot his annoyance over being ordered to apologize. He even forgot about being a half-breed, though there lingered a warning note that he would regret his lapse. But all those things disappeared in the way his heart reached out to her in a desire to erase the uncertainty in her eyes. His mouth was suddenly dry and he had to admit it wasn’t from the taste of burned chops. He’d admitted she was beautiful but seeing her shyly at the rose bush emphasized her beauty in a way that left him tongue-tied.

She smiled but no light came to her eyes. “I haven’t gotten off to a very good start, have I?”

Still speechless, he could only wait for her to continue.

“I’m not used to running a house on my own but I hope you’ll give me another chance. This job is important to me.”

He found his voice. “Why? From what you said I understand you came from a rich family. Can’t you simply go back home if this fails?”

Darkness clouded her eyes.

He glanced overhead but the clouds were not dark enough to bring those shadows to her eyes. They came from inside and again he had an urge to pull her close and protect her. It was only because he’d already rescued her twice and now it felt like his job.

She answered his question. “My reasons would be of no interest to you.”

He could argue the point, but she likely wouldn’t believe him and he had no desire to invite a snub. “Come on in and finish supper.”

She laughed, a sound of derision. “I think it is quite inedible.”

“There’s always bread and jam.”

“Very well.” She took two steps toward him and stopped, the scent of roses wafting toward him. “Does that mean you’re going to give me another chance?”

His head told him to say no. She wasn’t qualified for the job. Even worse, he felt his resolve to never again look with any interest at a woman faltering. Especially a white woman. Even more dangerous to the security of his heart, a rich city woman. But the word no would not leave his mouth. Instead he replied, “I surely am.” Besides, if there had been a better person to send out to help Maisie, wouldn’t Preacher Gage have sent her?

They reached the house. He grabbed the doorknob and opened the door for her, again breathing in the scent of roses as she passed him.

“I’m sorry for rushing away like that. Please forgive me.” She addressed the words to Maisie.

“You’re forgiven. Now let’s finish our meal.”

Maisie’s plate was empty, as was Charlie’s. Not wanting Beatrice to eat alone, Levi bravely took the smallest potato he could find, drowned it in butter and ate it in two mouthfuls.

“We have a little custom,” Maisie said. “We go around the table and tell about our day.”

Levi wanted to beg off for this once, but he thought it might be interesting to see how Beatrice would describe her day.

“Levi, with your pa and older brothers away, that leaves you as the oldest. Tell us about your day.”

“I found Beatrice crossing the river, on her way to help you, then found Charlie needing someone to shake him up and that’s about it.” He left out all the details that mattered, such as the jolt of fear when he saw Beatrice in the water with lightning flashing about her and the painful reminder of Helen’s death, which brought with it the memory of her rejection. The way his arms tightened around Beatrice as he carried her to dry land and then catching her as she fainted and feeling it was good and right to be there to protect her. Nope. He wasn’t going to admit any of those things. Not even to himself.

Maisie chuckled. “Short and sweet and to the point. Charlie, tell us about your day.”

Charlie sat up straighter. “I wasn’t drunk. I don’t care what Levi says. I still had half a bottle to go.”