Tempest Page 3

  Colt saw the disapproval. His grandfather had little tolerance for opinions different from his own. Despite his advanced age, the old fur trapper remained as formidable and unrelenting as a Wyoming winter. Few crossed him. Colt did when necessary.

  “Right or wrong, I’m prepared not to like her,” Ben stated.

  “Noted.” Being a curmudgeon was another of his grandfather’s traits.

  A glance at the clock on the mantel of the stone fireplace showed it was time to get Anna from school. If he wasn’t tied up with a patient he usually drove over to get her. His wounded shoulder would make handling the reins difficult. “Can you drive to the school? I’ll ride along.”

  Ben nodded and they set out.

  On the way, they came upon the sheriff. “Hey, Whit,” Colt said, “Miss Carmichael get settled in with Minnie?”

  “No. Instead of offering her one of the upstairs rooms, Minnie tried to make her stay in that run-down addition built on the back.”

  Colt’s lips tightened. He’d hoped her stay with Minnie would give them a chance to get acquainted and help deflate Minnie’s opinion that his remarrying disrespected Adele’s memory. He should have known better. Minnie Gore was as judgmental as she was sanctimonious. “So, where’d you take her?”

  “To Spring.”

  It was not what Colt wanted to hear.

  Chapter Three

  When Regan opened her eyes in the shadow-filled room, it took a few moments to remember where she was. Getting out of bed, she padded barefoot to the large window and looked out. The sun was just coming up over the trees and mountains, and the sky held the pinkish gray streaks of dawn. She realized she’d slept the balance of yesterday away. It wasn’t what she’d planned, but she felt less tired so she supposed she’d needed the extended rest. What would the day hold, she wondered. Would she and Dr. Lee be able to put yesterday behind them and move forward? Was he somewhere thinking of her and wondering the same thing? Regan had no answers. The smell of bacon scented the air and in spite of her musings, her stomach growled with eager anticipation, so she set thoughts of the grim Dr. Lee aside for the moment. After making use of the facilities and the washroom, she opened one of her trunks, dug out a pair of denims and a shirt, and left the room to seek out her hostess.

  Spring was standing at the stove tending strips of bacon frying in a cast-iron skillet. “Morning, Regan. How’d you sleep?”

  “Like a bear in winter.”

  “Feeling better?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hungry, I’m betting.”

  “Starving.”

  “Bacon’s almost ready. There’re biscuits, and my hens graciously allowed me some eggs.”

  After filling their plates with the offerings, they stepped outside and ate at a small table set behind the house. The peaceful setting temporarily overrode her worries about her future. “Do you eat out here often?”

  “As much as I can. Winter comes early, and once it arrives we’re forced inside for years it seems sometimes. Eating outdoors is one of my small pleasures.”

  Regan liked the idea of that. She liked Spring as well. “I grew up on a ranch that was also a hotel, so if there are chores I can help with, please let me know. I’d like to earn my keep.”

  “After your fancy dress yesterday, seeing you in denims this morning surprised me.”

  “You can’t muck out stalls in a ball gown.”

  Spring nodded over her raised coffee cup. “You’re not what my brother is expecting, believe me.”

  “His late wife didn’t dress this way, I take it?”

  “No. Adele was sweet as pie, but she knew little about life out of doors. She could cook and clean and do all the things a proper wife is supposed to do, but she didn’t know a hammer from a pitchfork.”

  “How’d they meet?”

  “At Howard Medical School. Her grandfather was one of the men Colt studied under.”

  She knew of Howard and its illustrious history. “Was it a love match?”

  “Yes. He was inconsolable after her death. I think in some ways, he’s still grieving her passing.”

  Regan was pleased to learn he’d loved her but wondered if he had it within himself to love again. “What’s their daughter like?”

  Spring paused as if debating her response. She met Regan’s eyes. “Truthfully? Anna is unhappy and rarely smiles. My heart aches when I see her.”

  “Why is she so unhappy?”

  “After Adele’s death, my brother didn’t know what to do with an infant, so he turned most of her raising over to Spare the Rod Spoil the Child Minnie Gore, Adele’s aunt. My niece has spent most of her life walking on eggshells so as not to evoke Minnie’s wrath.”

  “I met Minnie yesterday. It wasn’t pleasant. The wrath isn’t physical, is it?”

  “No. Colton wouldn’t stand for that, but Minnie fusses at Anna incessantly about staying clean, sitting and speaking properly, using the correct utensils, her diction. There’s nothing wrong with having those expectations, but Anna doesn’t get to be a child. She’s not allowed to go out and play because she’ll get dirty. Minnie has discouraged her from having friends because she thinks they’d be a bad influence.”

  “What does her father say about this sadness?”

  “He sees it, but isn’t sure how to undo what Minnie has done. He’s the only doctor in this part of the Territory, which means he’s sometimes gone for days at a time, so Anna’s cared for by either Minnie or my grandfather Ben who believes children should be seen and not heard.”

  “Do you get a say in her raising?”

  “No. Colt and Ben think I may teach her to grow up and speak her mind one day. Can’t have that, now can we?”

  Spring’s bitter tone made Regan curious about its cause and her standing with the two male family members. Anna’s plight was disturbing. Growing up, Regan and her older sister, Portia, had chores and were expected to be accomplished in all the areas Spring had pointed out, but they were also encouraged to have adventurous, carefree childhoods. They each had their own mounts, swam, explored the nearby canyons, fished, learned to use tools, and were never chastised by the adults for getting dirty. “Sounds like little Anna could use a champion.”

  “I agree, but it won’t be Aunt Spring.”

  Regan had no idea what kind of mother she might be, but having been abandoned by her own mother, Corinne, and later raised by her loving Aunt Eddy and Uncle Rhine she knew bad from good and considered that to be in her favor. In her mind, every child should be allowed to be a child and not have to walk on eggshells. She realized her own naïveté in thinking she’d simply waltz into this arranged marriage, find the love and adventure she desired, and all would be well. A complicated road lay ahead.

  After breakfast, Spring took her on a tour of the place. In addition to the Appaloosa colt Regan had seen yesterday, there was also a beautiful black stallion named Cheyenne and two mares: Sunrise and Lady. Spring greeted the stallion with an affectionate hug and the horse whinnied in response. “I found him up in the mountains when he was a colt. I’m not sure if his mother died or if he got separated from his clan, or what, but he was near death. Brought him home, nursed him back to health, and he’s been with me now about six years.”

  “He’s very handsome. Where’d you get the mares?”

  “They’re his.”

  Regan’s confusion must have shown, so Spring responded, “I woke up one morning a few years back and he was gone. I looked for him for days and when I couldn’t find him, gave up. I figured he’d found a clan and I’d never see him again. Broke my heart. But at the end of the summer he returned and had the two mares with him.”

  “Needed some company?”

  Spring laughed. “Apparently. Took me a while to get the mares used to the saddle, but the three are strong stock. I’ve been selling the foals and making a good profit.”

  “I’ll need a mount. I didn’t want to subject mine to the long train ride.” She missed her mare, Catalina, terrib
ly and wondered how she was faring, and if she missed Regan as deeply.

  “I don’t have any for sale at the moment, but there are a few ranchers who do. Once you get settled in, we can go see them.”

  “If I get settled in. Your brother might not want to go through with the agreement.”

  “And you?”

  “I’m still willing.” In spite of her earlier protestations and misgivings, she hadn’t come all this way to turn tail and run simply because he’d seemed prickly and, yes, rude at the outset. Surely there had to be more to him than that.

  “If he isn’t, you’re still welcome to stay here while deciding if you want to go home.”

  “Thanks.” The offer was a kind one. “Now, show me the rest of the place and then put me to work.”

  Spring showed her the henhouse, the hogs she kept for butchering and sale, the barns, and her large vegetable garden.

  “We have a short growing season, but I try and grow as much as I can. I’m pretty self-sufficient.”

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “Be twelve years in July. I’d just turned nineteen when my grandfather demanded I leave his household. I was more than happy to oblige.”

  Regan regarded Spring’s frank eyes and wanted to know more, but didn’t know the woman well enough to ask.

  As if having read Regan’s mind, Spring said, “I’ll share that tale another time. Now your turn. Tell me why you shot my brother.”

  “Livy got a pony yesterday.”

  Colt glanced up from his breakfast and met his daughter’s brown eyes. “Did she?” Livy was a classmate and the closest person Anna had to a friend.

  Her gaze dropped. “Yes.”

  Colt wasn’t sure what to ask next. He felt so inept around his child most of the time. He wondered if this was her way of saying she wanted a pony. He and Spring had had their first mounts around Anna’s age. “Do you think you might like one, too?”

  She shook her head. “Aunt Minnie said I’d just fall off and break my neck.”

  “Oh.” His late wife, Adele, having been raised in the city didn’t ride, but he wanted his daughter to learn. He tried a different tact. “I think I could teach you so you wouldn’t fall off.”

  She shook her head again. “Aunt Minnie wouldn’t like it.”

  “I see.” He needed to get her out from under Minnie’s suffocating thumb. Because of her, his Anna lacked the joy and curiosity he and his sister had as children. They’d had a strict upbringing, too, but learned to hunt and fish and ride. Anna did none of those things. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

  “I won’t,” she replied with soft finality. “I’ve finished eating. May I be excused?”

  “Yes. Get your things for school and Ben will drive us in the wagon.”

  “Is your shoulder still hurt?”

  “It is, but it should be better in a few days.” He’d explained the injury as an accident, which on the surface was the truth. He didn’t tell her he’d been shot.

  “Do you have to be a doctor today?” she asked.

  “I’m going to my office, but I should be here to have supper with you.” The question was her way of asking if he’d be leaving town. His duties were such that sometimes he didn’t return home until after she was asleep.

  “Okay. I’ll get my books.” She scooted off her chair and left the table.

  He watched her go and wondered if a new wife could transform the now wooden Anna into the vibrant laughing child she deserved to be.

  After dropping Anna off at the schoolhouse, Colt gingerly mounted his stallion that he’d trailered to the back of the wagon. Ben would be going home, but Colt planned to ride over to see his sister and her guest.

  Ben was still convinced that the Carmichael woman should be sent home. “You sure this is a good idea?”

  “If she and I don’t suit, we’ll part ways and I’ll place more advertisements in the newspapers.” Even though he wasn’t optimistic about receiving favorable responses. “When I leave Spring’s, I’ll head to my office in town.”

  Ben gave him a nod and set out. Colt turned his stallion and rode west.

  He found his sister shoveling feed into the troughs for her hogs. She paused as he dismounted. “Morning. How’s the shoulder?”

  He fought to keep the discomfort from showing on his face. He guessed she’d learned about the shooting from either Whit or Regan, or both. “I’ll live.” He was glad Miss Winchester hadn’t aimed lower or he might be as dead as Jeb Bailey and laid out at Lyman Beck’s undertaker’s place.

  Spring asked, “You come to see me or your intended?”

  “Is she awake?”

  “She’s mucking out one of my stalls.”

  That caught him off guard. “Really?”

  “You do know she grew up on a ranch, right?”

  “She mentioned that in her letters, but I assumed—”

  “That she had hired hands to do the work?”

  “Yes.”

  “She must’ve worked beside them because she went at it without any instructions from me.”

  Something else Colt had to reconcile about the surprising Regan Carmichael.

  Spring added, “I know my opinion doesn’t mean much, brother, but I think she’d be good for Anna. And you could do a lot worse for a wife.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “You need someone in your life to challenge your thinking besides your disreputable sister.”

  “You’re more than enough.”

  She smiled and shoveled more feed into the trough. “How’s the old man?”

  “Crotchety. Told me he’s prepared not to like Miss Carmichael.”

  “That surprise you?”

  “No.” His grandfather seemed to have problems with headstrong women. He hadn’t gotten along with his mother, Isabelle, either. Watching Spring work, memories rose of the good times they’d shared growing up. He knew she and Ben would probably never bury the hatchet, but he found himself wishing he could find a way to make peace with her so they could be back in each other’s lives again. She was his sister. Over the years, she’d cleaned up the scandal-filled mess that had once been her life, and proven her ability to take care of herself. But as her brother, the need to watch over her remained strong.

  Leaving Spring to her chores, Colt entered the shadow-filled barn and walked to the stalls. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised to find Regan wearing a snug pair of denims and a man’s shirt as she worked. She hefted the big hay-filled pitchfork and shook it to sift the hay from the clods of manure before tossing the offal into the wheelbarrow beside her.

  “Good morning.”

  She jumped and swung his way, pitchfork tines pointed out like a weapon. “Goodness,” she said, lowering the fork. “Don’t creep up on a person that way. You scared me half to death.”

  He hid his amusement. “My apologies.”

  She nodded an acceptance then went back to work. “You come to send me home?”

  Watching how efficiently she went about the task, he saw that his sister was right. Regan Carmichael knew what she was about. He raised his gaze from the denim-covered curves of her behind. “I’m not sure.”

  She stopped, set the fork’s tines against the stable floor, and used her free hand to pull a bandana from her pocket to wipe her brow. Her eyes grazed his shoulder. “How’s your wound?”

  “Healing.”

  “So how and when will you be sure?”

  “I thought we could talk about that.”

  “Do you mind if I work while we do? I’d like to finish up here. Should only take a few more minutes.”

  Colt had expected to have her undivided attention, not compete with sifting manure. He debated leaving and riding to town, but decided against that. This needed to be settled as soon as possible for both their sakes. “Meet me outside when you’re done.”

  “Thanks.”

  He noted that she didn’t even spare him a glance when he departed.

  Sp
ring was sitting at her outside dining table. “That was quick.”

  He sat. “She wants to finish the stall.”

  Spring’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Made you play second fiddle to horse manure?”

  He didn’t respond.

  “I know you’re accustomed to a woman who’ll bend and bow, but Regan’s not that type. If you’re seeking someone more like Adele, you should send Regan home and keep searching.”

  Colt stared off into the distance. At this point he wasn’t certain what he wanted. He already knew how limited his future choices might be. Even though the territorial government was doing everything it could to entice good women to consider making their homes in Wyoming, the response had been low. The cities were small and unpolished; the winters long and harsh. There were few theaters, lending libraries, or fancy dress shops that seemed to ease women’s lives, but he had a woman who seemed willing. Did he want to throw her back like a too-small fish because she appeared to lack Adele’s sweet deferential nature?

  Spring added, “That she isn’t already on a train back to her family says to me that she’s willing to meet you halfway. Are you prepared to do the same?”

  He considered Spring’s question. “She and I need to talk first.”

  A few minutes later, he saw her exiting the barn. He noted the confidence in her stride and the sway in her hips as she approached the pump. Adele had sometimes needed help priming the one at his place, but not Regan Carmichael. Expertly working the handle, she displayed confidence in that task as well. The water spilled out, she cleaned her hands, wiped them dry on the front of her denims, and made her way to where he waited.

  Spring got to her feet. “I’ll be inside.”

  He nodded and focused on Regan’s approach. By all accounts she was a beautiful woman. Short in stature, she had clear ebony skin and a pair of sparkling black eyes that had snapped at him angrily yesterday in Whit’s office. In contrast, they’d been cool and almost distant during this morning’s short encounter in the barn. He found himself taking in her figure again. The snug denims emphasized her curves and his mind strayed to their potential wedding night. Like most well-raised women, she’d probably hope her husband did his business quickly, and would only bother her with his needs when necessary.