The Rancher Inherits A Family. Cheryl St.John

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ there are trestle bridges,” she answered, “but this is a makeshift table.”

      “Trestle is the wood frame that’s holding the board on top to make a table or a bridge,” Seth explained.

      Marigold gave him a relieved glance. “Yes, exactly. The table is set up so the coffee can sit upon it.”

      “And then the little girl sells it,” Harper suggested.

      She gave Seth an apologetic glance. “This might take a while.”

      The fork hovered above his plate. He studied the faces of the curious boys, his overwhelmed expression revealing doubts about his ability to raise three young boys while he ran a ranch. He met her gaze. “I’m not going anywhere.”

      In that instant and with those words, much as he’d ignored pain for the sake of remaining calm in front of the children—as well as for the sake of his pride, no doubt—she watched him deny his sizable struggle and accept the responsibility that had been delivered to his door. These children frightened her. But he frightened her more. She needed control of her future. She sensed the threat each of them presented to that control.

      She wanted people of her own choosing in her life, but so far, since arriving, circumstances were determining her actions. Marigold turned back to the book. She could handle anything for a short time.

      * * *

      The doctor’s husband, Samuel Woods Mason, was the local newspaperman. Marigold recognized his name right away, had followed his articles covering the war and read the book he’d written afterward about his army experiences. He was a talkative, friendly man and arrived with a handsome young son some time later.

      “You’re the new schoolteacher?”

      She extended a hand. “Yes. I’m Marigold Brewster.”

      They stood in the exterior portion of the doctor’s office.

      “When things settle down, I’d like to do an interview and write a piece for the Webster County Daily News. Your arrival will be of interest to the citizens.”

      “Well, I don’t know how interesting I am, but I’d be happy to let people know my plans for the students.”

      “Everyone is interesting if I ask the right questions,” he said with a smile. “And in this town women are of utmost interest. This is August,” he said, indicating his son. The slender boy had jet-black hair and lashes like his father’s, and appeared a couple of years older than Tate.

      Marigold extended a hand. “I expect we’ll be seeing a lot of each other at school.”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      “August loves to read,” Marlys told her. “He’s learned to speak Chinese and now together, we’re learning to write the characters. He can also understand German and is picking up some Shawnee.”

      Marigold looked at the boy in surprise. “My goodness. That’s impressive, August.”

      He gave her a bashful smile. “Marlys teaches me languages. We visit the people who speak it so we can learn.”

      He’d called the doctor Marlys, but looked to her with affection.

      “Come meet the children who will soon be in your class.” Marlys rested her hand on his shoulder and introduced the boys, who’d been sitting on chairs in the waiting room. The four of them looked each other over.

      “You’re going to stay with us tonight while Dr. Mason looks after your—after Mr. Halloway,” Sam explained. “We can get up early and have breakfast at The Cattleman.”

      “They have flapjacks and sausage,” August told them.

      The boys looked at Marigold for confirmation. She felt so out of her league with these children. She’d taught in stressful circumstances, with inadequate supplies, and in cold classrooms during the war, but she’d always been confident she had something to offer her students. These children needed so much more than she could give them.

      But right now, they simply needed assurance that they were going to be safe and together, and she could offer them that. She kneeled in front of the trio and took Little John’s damp hand. “August and Mr. Mason are going to take good care of you tonight.” She looked from one little face to the next. “You’re all safe and you’re together. Tomorrow we’ll get you settled at Mr. Hallo—At Seth’s ranch. Your travels are over, and you’re going to be just fine.”

      As she stood, Little John dug his fist into her skirt and clung to the fabric.

      “Let go, Little John,” Tate told his smallest brother.

      Little John’s lower lip trembled.

      She thought quickly. “I’ll tell you what.” She moved to a nearby table, under which her open bag sat. Attached to her skirt, the toddler followed. She reached into the satchel and withdrew the book they’d started earlier. “You take care of the book for me, Little John. And tomorrow we’ll read more.”

      After a moment’s thought, he released her skirt to grasp the book and clutched it to his chest. “Aw-wight.”

      “That’s a good boy. Thank you.” She handed Sam the small valise that held their belongings and he led them out the door.

      An ache opened in her chest as she watched them leave with a stranger. She’d been a stranger to them until a few days ago, and now she was their lifeline. They were vulnerable and helpless in a world of unfamiliar people.

      Except for Seth Halloway, of course, she reminded herself. He was a strong capable man, willing and able to take over their care. Just as soon as he was on his feet again.

      “I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping tonight,” Marlys told her. “It’s perfectly comfortable. I lived here before Sam and I married last year. I carried your pet’s cage into the room earlier.”

      “Thank you, doctor.”

      “Marlys, please.” She led the way into a long narrow room that ran the width of the building. It held a bed and bureau, a woodstove and a table with two chairs. “Feel free to make yourself a pot of tea. There’s wood in the bin. The necessary is at the end of the path out back. It’s visible in the moonlight.”

      It had been six days since Marigold had dressed in her nightgown and been afforded a comfortable place to rest. Her entire body ached, and exhaustion was catching up with her. From her cage, Peony, too, was making her displeasure clear. Marigold unfastened the latch and the long-haired ginger cat stepped out, immediately inspecting the area.

      Marigold had dreamed of a cup of tea, but tonight she settled for a glass of water and poured a bowlful for the cat. Marigold slipped the thick braided ribbon leash she’d made for the train ride around Peony’s neck and let her out for a few minutes, talking softly to her the whole time. Bringing Peony on the train had been challenging, but Marigold had lost so much already, she couldn’t bear to leave her pet behind. Peony symbolized home and stability—a small comfort, but a much-needed one. It would be good to get settled, so the poor dear could get used to a home again.

      She changed into a delightfully СКАЧАТЬ