Caring for the Cowboy Read online

  “Maybe later,” he said, rubbing his belly. “I still feel like I wanna …”

  In alarm, she reached for the bucket.

  “No, no. ‘S okay. Though who knows what it’ll do later.”

  She nodded and offered him the last of the soup. He took it one-handed, drank it down, then eased back onto the mattress and fell fast asleep.

  She watched him in the fading light. She still didn’t know his name, where he lived, nothing except she had to take care of him for now. It was the right thing to do. Tomorrow, if he was well enough, she could help him home, wherever that was. It would risk him figuring out she wasn’t a boy, just a grimy girl hiding from the world. But she didn’t have to hide anymore if she didn’t want to. She had friends now – sort of. And …

  “Pa is gone,” she whispered to herself, as if afraid she’d break a spell. Then she smiled and gambled saying something even better: “I’m free.”

  The realization struck hard. She was elated and sorrowful at the same time. True, Pa was a no-good, lowdown, abusive, drunken, cheating skunk, but he was also her father. She loved him, but too much had happened. All she could do at this point was pray for him, just as she’d done for years. So far her prayers had gone unanswered – he’d only gotten worse, not better. But as some wise person had said, where there was life, there was hope.

  She washed the dishes in the remaining water, left to fetch more, saw Bo tied to a tree branch and sighed. “I’m sorry, boy, I forgot all about you. Are you thirsty?”

  Bo sorrowfully nickered in response, which just made her feel guiltier.

  She unsaddled him and, bucket in hand, led him to the creek. When she reached the water she let him drink while she stared at the darkening sky. It was cold and felt like it would snow. If she wanted to leave, she’d have to figure out where to go and how to live pretty quickly. She knew there was another town not far from there – Topaz, was it? But would she be any better off there than here? At least she’d met Regina and her sister here – anywhere else, she’d be starting from scratch.

  She reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled out the coins Myrtle gave her. Speaking of Myrtle, where was she? Now that she had questions, the woman was nowhere to be found. She returned them to her pocket and sighed.

  Regina’s words came back in that moment: Too bad you’re not staying in Creede. This town is growing and could always use a fresh face. The sisters had regaled her with their business and romantic successes. Regina had married Jake Honeycutt, while Ariadne had wed their landlord, Wendell … ugh, she’d forgotten his surname. Thrugood, was it? She’d listened to them, looked at their clothing, and wondered what it would be like to wear a dress again. It had been years. They wanted a fresh face, and she wanted a fresh start – not to mention a good scrubbing.

  But she was safer dressed as a boy, so maybe she should let people keep thinking she was. She’d been so caught up in their stories, she hadn’t thought to ask the sisters – or the shopgirls – not to blow her cover. She hoped she wasn’t going to pay for that later. “Maja you idiot, why didn you tell them?”

  “Tell them what?”

  Maja started, lost her balance and almost fell into the creek. She righted herself and spun on Myrtle. “Where were you?”

  “Checking on your patient, where else?”

  She ignored that and went on to the next order of business. “Where did you get these?” She jammed her hand into her pocket and pulled out the coins. “Did you steal them?”

  “Not at all. I found them - right there, in fact.” Myrtle pointed to a large tree just down the bank. “Someone else must have found them, stolen them, who knows? All I know is I dug them up and gave them to you.”

  Maja suddenly noticed Myrtle was dressed in a blue evening gown and white shawl, like she was going to a ball. “Where did you get those clothes?”

  “They’re mine.”

  “Where do you live?” she tried next.

  Myrtle rolled her eyes. “My dear sweet girl, how many times do I have to tell you? I’m your guardian angel. I just happen to be an angel with an extensive wardrobe. And a good thing too – you never know what situation you’ll find yourself in around here. You could be dressed for scut work and then get an invitation to a fancy tea shoppe.”

  That stung. Maja looked at the sky, growled in frustration and tried again. “Where did these coins come from?”

  “Where I just told you – that tree over there, in a black leather pouch. If you don’t believe me, then go check,” Myrtle challenged.

  “Fine, I will!” Maja marched to the tree and looked at the ground. “See? Nothing!”

  “Try the other side, child.”

  Maja glared at her then walked around the tree. It was getting darker and very difficult to see, but there was enough light left to tell that the dirt had been disturbed and a small hole dug. She crouched down to examine it. “I don’t believe it.” She pulled up a leather pouch full of coins. “Who do these belong to?”

  “Finders keepers,” Myrtle sang. “If you examine the leather, you’ll notice the pouch is very old. Who knows how long it’s been there?”

  Maja felt the leather with her fingers. The woman was right – it had to have been there a long time. She went back and held the pouch in front of her. “You found them – you should have them.”

  “Oh no, my dear. What would I do with money?”

  Maja blinked a few times. “But there must be a small fortune here. Why wouldn’t you want any?”

  Myrtle laughed. “We don’t need money in Heaven.”

  Maja groaned. “But they’re too old to spend here. And will you please stop with the angel nonsense? I have enough problems without you acting plumb loco all the time!”

  Myrtle picked at the bodice of her gown. “I suppose it’s easier to think that I’m mad than accept the truth. But never mind that now. Whatever are you going to do with that handsome man up the hill?”

  “Fetch the doctor. Or leave a note and tell someone where he is. What else can I do?”

  Myrtle studied her a moment. “He doesn’t know that you’re a girl, does he?”

  “You’re the angel – you tell me.”

  “We don’t do that, dear. Only the Boss knows everything. But can I help it if He keeps us well in formed?” Myrtle walked to where Bo was nosing through a patch of dead grass for something edible and patted his neck. “You poor thing, you need some fattening up.” She turned to Maja. “Do you think he’d like some tea?”

  At this point Maja wanted to pull her hair out. “He’s a horse, not a person! Horses don’t drink tea!”

  “No, but you do. You really ought to go back to that tea shop and spend more time with Regina and Ariadne.”

  Maja froze. “How do you know about them?”

  “I might not be omniscient, but I do get around. I saw that nice Mrs. Honeycutt take you to her shop. Lovely woman. So’s her sister. You did well to make friends with them.”

  Maja sighed again, grabbed Bo’s reins and started to lead him up the hill.

  “Take good care of the man, Maja,” Myrtle called after her. “In fact, give him a coin. He has friends who will know what to do with them.”

  Maja stopped. If what Regina said about the coins was true, she wouldn’t have to worry about having money to settle down. She’d have to work eventually unless she invested well, but it would (literally) buy her time to learn a trade, or get cleaned up and find a husband. It was almost too good to be true – which meant it likely was. She slowly turned around. “They’re fake, aren’t they?”

  “Heavens, no, child.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Myrtle put her hands on her hips. “See here, young lady, I only have so much to work with. But … oh, I suppose it won’t hurt to tell you. Those coins were buried in that spot almost thirty years ago by Xavier Pettigrew. He won them in a poker game in Cripple Creek while he was gold mining nearby. The poor sap that lost them didn’t have a clue what they were. Xavier
didn’t either. He buried them there for safekeeping, planning to come back for them if he didn’t strike it rich. The next week he did strike it rich and forgot all about them.” She laughed.

  “Are you sure he won’t come back for them?”

  “He passed away quite a while back. His wife is alive and well and works as a matchmaker in Denver. Lovely woman, and rich as Croesus, so she doesn’t need them. You do.”

  Maja didn’t know who Creases was, but had to concede the point. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? And how do you know all of that anyway?”

  Myrtle hiked up her skirt and marched over to her. “At some point, young lady, you’ll just have to trust me.” She nodded at the hill. “He’s awake, you know, and wondering where you are.”

  Maja glanced at the trail beginning to dapple with moonlight slicing through the tree branches. When she turned back to say something, Myrtle was gone. In her place was Maja’s bucket of water.

  Chapter 6

  Sure enough, when Maja returned to the cabin, her patient was awake. She went straight to the cot. “How are you feeling?”

  He chuckled. “Been better. Mighty dark in here, don’tcha think? Got a lantern?”

  Mentally she kicked herself again for not thinking of it when Regina was spending so much money on her. She wasn’t sure she could go back to that well without seeming greedy, and she still didn’t know whether all those old coins could help, regardless of what crazy Myrtle the so-called angel said. For now, she settled for shaking her head.

  “Too bad. A little light would be nice.”

  She nodded. What else could she do?

  “Oh – to answer your question, I’m still feeling poorly, but not as bad as I was.” He propped himself up on his elbows, coughed twice, then looked at her. “My name is Baxter Hicks, by the way. What’s yours?”

  She swallowed hard. If she told him, he’d know she wasn’t a boy. If she lied, she wasn’t sure she could keep the ruse up. If she said nothing, he’d be suspicious. She chose the last option as being the safest, and just shook her head.

  “Well, have it your way, son.” He paused before adding, “Some water, please?”

  She scooped some water from the bucket with a cup and offered it to him.

  He took it, drank and handed the cup back. “Pretty,” he commented.

  She froze - was he talking about her? No, couldn’t be …

  As it turned out, he wasn’t. “What are you doing with no light, no home but this place, yet you’ve got a fancy piece of china? Did it belong to your ma?”

  Maja looked at Regina’s pretty blue and white teacup in her hands and thought furiously. She had to get out of here, before answering these questions got her in trouble. She’d never learned how to lie, only to keep silent, and how do you do that when someone wants you to speak? “Um … no,” she finally said. “It was a gift.” Which was true enough.

  He eased himself back down again. “I don’t suppose it would be too much to ask for a blanket? It’s feeling cold tonight. Might even snow.”

  Maja glanced around. She hadn’t thought about blankets, and of course Pa had taken the two they had. Without thinking, she removed her jacket and put it over him.

  “Much obliged. You have a blanket or something for yourself?”

  She frowned. If he thought she was going to join him under that jacket … “I’ll just … sleep by the stove. I’ll be fine.” She forced a quick smile, then fled for the door to gather more wood – and to put some distance between her and the too-curious Baxter Hicks.

  Once outside, she took a moment to sigh in relief and let her heart rate slow down. Then she checked on Bo, gave him some more grain and gathered as much wood as she could carry. By the time she returned to the cabin she was shivering – and realized Pa had probably taken the poor man’s coat as well. Pa was really the lowest of the low. She shook her head and went inside.

  Baxter was snoring softly as she put more wood on the fire. She listened to him for a moment and found it strangely comforting. Maybe she’d just have to take her chances, trust this man – and Regina and Ariadne, and whoever else she met in town – and hope for the best. Maybe she should even trust crazy Myrtle – she might be addled in the head, but she’d done her a couple good turns already.

  Being able to trust meant being able to plan, so she did. Tomorrow … maybe she could head back to town and ask Regina about the coins, perhaps find out how to sell them for cash. Then she could give Baxter enough to cover his losses, and maybe set herself up with a place to live – a nicer one than this, anyway. Or should she stay here for now, make it a home and get used to being on her own … no. Pa might come back to the shack. If she was going to make a go of it, she needed to do it where he couldn’t find her.

  Wait – would Baxter take the money if she offered it? She hadn’t thought of that. “Oh no,” she whispered. He was sure to have questions then – why would a dirty, rag-clad girl-pretending-to-be-a-boy have all that money to give away? How on earth would she explain that? Worse still, if Baxter decided she was responsible for him being robbed, how would she explain it to a judge?

  She sat next to the stove puzzling over her predicament. “Wow, Pa, you sure left me in a mess,” she grumbled. She would’ve cussed if she knew how, but years of not talking had left her inexperienced in that area.

  Finally she decided the best course of action would be to leave Baxter with a few of the coins and disappear. What else could she do? He seemed a nice enough fellow, but when he found out who her father was that niceness could turn to anger in the blink of an eye. And didn’t Myrtle say he’d know what to do with them, or had friends who did? Something like that …

  “Oh, Pa, why did you have to be such a … grrrr.” She sighed and moved on. “Well, Myrtle, if you’re so smart, I hope you’ll help me take care of this.” Because it was one thing to keep Baxter Hicks from knowing who she was related to for the time being, another to make sure it stayed that way. The moment she tried to sell one of those coins, she could be in a world of trouble. And how did Myrtle know who buried them all those years ago? Unless …

  “Oh good Lord,” Maja whispered, barely able to believe it. “Unless she really is my guardian angel!”

  Baxter opened his eyes slowly. His head still hurt, but that was okay. His stomach rumbled with hunger – a good sign. He sat up and looked around the cabin. There was no trace of the boy (whatever his name was) anywhere. He chanced standing up, did so without a dizzy spell – a very good sign! – and staggered to the table, where something had been scrawled across it in charcoal, next to a wadded-up handkerchief:

  For you

  He picked up the handkerchief, opened it and … “What the?” There were six old coins inside. He sat in a creaky chair, picked one out and studied it. It looked like silver – very old silver too, like a drawing of a Roman coin he’d once seen in a book. Another looked more recent, but seemed to be engraved in Spanish – Mexican, maybe? “What is this? And what am I supposed to do with it?”

  He looked around the cabin again, got to his feet – it was easier this time – and noticed the bucket of water, with the fancy teacup on the floor next to it. He took the cup, dipped it in the water and drank greedily. There was a small bundle there too, and he picked it up and unwrapped it. “Food – yes!” He popped a dried apple slice into his mouth and examined the cabin for the third time. Everything else seemed to be as it had been when he fell asleep last … except the boy wasn’t there.

  He noticed he still had the threadbare coat – it was on the cot where he’d pushed it aside to get up. “Uh-oh. He’s probably freezing to death out there!” He went to the door, opened it and got a gust of icy wind in the face. “Brrr,” he said as he closed it again. He was in no better shape than his nurse. Here he was, still a little off-kilter, with no boots and a jacket that couldn’t possibly fit him – he might be a foot taller than the kid. It would be risky to walk home, in the shape he was in and as cold as it was.

&nbsp
; He closed the door, went back to the cot and decided to rest a spell. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was, but he couldn’t be too far from town or from Cooper and Hattie’s place. He supposed he should leave a note for his rescuer, but didn’t see anything to write with. Well, there was no rush – for now he’d wait to see if the boy returned.

  But that got him thinking – what was he doing out here? Why would a teenage boy be out here by his lonesome? How had he gotten him back to this place after he was robbed? It wasn’t likely he had something to do with the robbery, since the boy didn’t have anything that was stolen from him or the cash that selling it would bring. Besides, if the boy had, why had he taken care of him afterward? But did he know something about his predicament? And then there were the funny coins …

  No, this was all too strange. He needed to get out of here, regardless of what shape he was in, and get some answers.

  He went to the stove, spied a sturdy stick the boy must have stoked the fire with, and used it to knock a small piece of charred wood onto the floor. He quickly sprinkled some water over the piece and waited for it to cool while he contemplated details. Once he was better dressed and perhaps set to rights by a doctor, he’d have to speak to Marshal KC, maybe bring him to the cabin. Not that the marshal would find any evidence here, but he had no better ideas.

  It was all a puzzle to him – how he’d gotten here, who the boy was, who his attacker had been, and on and on. Getting bashed with a cast-iron fry pan sure didn’t help him sort things out. Well, a couple days’ rest, some doctoring and new clothes might. And the sooner he got started, cold or no cold, the better.

  “Well, I guess I better mosey.” He picked up the piece of charred wood, scrawled “thank you” on the table and put the handkerchief and coins in his pants pocket. He debated taking the coat, then decided the kid needed it more than he did – he’d toughed out worse days in his shirtsleeves.