Pony Express Courtship. Rhonda Gibson

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СКАЧАТЬ don’t need a man to take care of me, Mr. Edwards. The good Lord has protected us through many dangerous situations and I have no doubt He will continue to do so. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my boys are no longer little boys, but men.” As an afterthought she added, “But thanks so very much for your concern and for the invite.”

      Joy poked her head out. Her sweet young voice broke the awkward silence between the adults. Worry lined her words. “Mr. Armstrong and Jacob will be with us, won’t they, Ma?”

      She stroked her daughter’s silky hair, wishing Joy hadn’t broken her silence. “Yes, sweetie. There is nothing to fear.”

      The bell over the door jingled again. Rebecca turned to see Mrs. Little and her eldest daughter enter the store. She wondered if all the women in the area brought someone with them when they came to visit the general store.

      Mr. Edwards paid no heed to the other two women. “Mr. Armstrong?” His eyes bore into Joy’s as he waited for an answer. “Who is this Mr. Armstrong?”

      Joy tucked her head behind Rebecca’s skirt again. Rebecca stepped in front of her daughter, protecting her from questions she had no knowledge how to answer. “I’d like to get our supplies as soon as possible, Mr. Edwards. The men will be back shortly to pick us up.”

      Mrs. Little waited until the storekeeper went to retrieve the items on Rebecca’s list. “So you have a new man working for you?” she asked.

      Well, it sure hadn’t taken long for that little tidbit to make its way around the gossip mill. She had learned one thing living in Dove Creek and that was people had very little to occupy their minds, so interest in the people around them bordered on harassment. However, Rebecca couldn’t dismiss the older woman as easily as she had Mr. Edwards. She’d been raised to respect her elders, and Mrs. Little could easily have been her mother. “He doesn’t exactly work for me.”

      Mr. Edwards moved closer to them. He continued to add items to the box he’d begun to fill, but seemed to linger ever so near.

      “I see.” The condemning sound in Mrs. Little’s voice had Rebecca quickly explaining.

      “Mr. Armstrong works for the Pony Express. He’s been hired to be the station keeper by Mr. Bromley.” Rebecca moved to the fabric, where she knew Mr. Edwards couldn’t pretend to be gathering her supplies, since she hadn’t added any sewing notions to her list.

      Mrs. Little followed. “Is this a young man, dear?”

      Joy followed her mother about the fabric table. She picked up an edge to a pink print and said, “This is pretty.”

      Rebecca touched the material. “I’m not sure his age, Mrs. Little. I only just met him this morning.”

      The daughter snorted, drawing a frown from her mother’s face. “Catherine, that is very rude.”

      Catherine was a newly married woman, but still had enough respect for her parent to look contrite and say “Sorry, Ma.”

      Mrs. Little patted her daughter’s hand and turned her attention back to Rebecca. “Is he older than your pa?”

      Rebecca hated this line of questioning. She knew where the older woman was going and didn’t like it. “No, but I don’t know how much younger than Pa he is.”

      “Is he married?” Catherine asked, admiring a blue print.

      Rebecca frowned. “I don’t know that, either.”

      “Then what do you know?” Mr. Edwards asked.

      “I know he showed up this morning, helped us put the fire out that burned our barn and announced that he is the new station keeper. That’s all I know.” Rebecca waved at the box in Mr. Edwards’s hands. “One of the boys will be back shortly to get our supplies. Please add the total to my tab, Mr. Edwards. I will be in on the first of the month to settle up.” She turned on her heels. “Come, Joy.”

      The sound of Joy’s shoes tapping against the hardwood floor assured Rebecca that her daughter had followed her outside the store. Rebecca wasn’t sure if she was angry with Mrs. Little and Mr. Edwards, or at herself.

      She didn’t know a thing about Mr. Armstrong other than what she’d told them. Why had she been so quick to accept him at face value? He’d waltzed in, said he was the station keeper and proceeded to boss them all around.

      “Ma! Slow down,” Joy called behind her.

      Rebecca stopped and looked at her daughter. “I’m sorry, Joy.” She waited for the little girl to catch up with her, then continued on.

      Her boys were with a virtual stranger. How had she been so careless? Rebecca planned on finding out just who Seth Armstrong was and she planned to do it now.

      After all, once Mrs. Little realized that he was a nice young man, she’d have the whole town in an uproar. They’d be wondering what went on out at the Young farm. How could Mr. Bromley have put her in this situation? Could she continue with this business arrangement?

      * * *

      Seth handed Mr. Kaziah the remainder of the payment for the wood and nails. He knew it would be pricey, but hadn’t expected it to be quite this expensive and wondered if the lumberman had overcharged him and the boys. Thankfully, Mr. Russell, one of the Pony Express founders, had supplied him with a hefty budget for turning the farm into a Pony Express station. Seth had been told by Mr. Bromley that since the buildings were already there, they hadn’t done much work to the place and to spend what he needed to on the repairs. He’d have to send a full report to the older gentleman, explaining this added expense.

      “Here comes Ma and Joy,” Benjamin announced from his perch on the bench of the wagon.

      He turned to see the boy’s mother heading toward them. Her face was set, but it was her eyes that caught and held his attention. She glowered at him, the blue orbs piercing the distance between them.

      “She looks mad.” Benjamin turned to face his brother, confirming Seth’s earlier thought. “I wonder why.”

      Philip answered, “Beni, mas don’t get mad. Dogs get mad. Mas get angry.” A teasing grin touched the young boy’s lips but his eyes seemed weary.

      Thomas slapped his brother on the back. “Good one, Phil.”

      “Jacob, Mr. Armstrong. I need to speak to you both, now please,” Rebecca announced as she walked toward the lumberyard.

      Seth turned back to Mr. Kaziah. “Thank you for helping us load the wagon. You’ll be sending the rest out later today, right?”

      The older man nodded and then leaned toward him. In a low, gruff voice he whispered, “I don’t envy you. Taking on a passel of kids and that woman. She’s a bit of a feisty one.” He turned away and hurried back inside the lumber mill before Seth could answer.

      What did he mean take on? Surely, Mr. Kaziah hadn’t assumed that he and Mrs. Young were courting. He shook his head and then turned to face Rebecca. Jacob already stood by her side and was now holding Joy in his arms. The little girl rested her head in the neck of her big brother.

      When he was within talking range, Seth asked, “What happened, Mrs. Young?”

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