A Love of Her Own Read online

  “Don’t worry your pretty blonde head. I’ll hop in the back. I don’t mind, I’ve ridden in much worse.”

  Before he assisted April into the small seat next to the boy, she paused to give the old nag a gentle stroke across her bony back. “Sweet friend, thank you for hauling my bags,” April whispered into the horse’s ear. The mare responded with a low snort and toss of her mane. The gentleman hopped into the back of the cart.

  The boy gave her a sideways glance. “Her name is Ruby, named after my maw.” A shadow of sadness flickered in the boy’s eyes.

  “That’s a nice name for your horse, and I’m sure she is honored to have your mother’s name.” She wanted to say, I hope she has the energy to pull this wagon, but she bit her tongue. “My name is April McBride.”

  The boy touched his fingers to the brim of his cap. “My name is Billy Taylor.”

  April turned to look back at Mr. Barnum, who had already settled himself on the edge of the wagon with his legs dangling off the back edge, as if he did this sort of thing every day.

  “All set?” the boy asked over his shoulder.

  “Yes. Drive away, lad, and let’s get Miss McBride to the hotel before she perishes.”

  April twisted back around to the front of her seat as the boy yelled, “Giddyap!” tapping the nag lightly across her rump. At first she didn’t move, so he gave her another light tap, then she trotted down the avenue, much to April’s surprise.

  Billy grinned. “Sometimes she kinda goes to sleep while she’s awaitin’ my instructions.”

  April suppressed a giggle behind her hand. “Is that what it is?”

  “She knows she’s helping me earn a livin’,” Billy said in such a serious tone that April looked over at him.

  “Billy, you don’t look a day over thirteen. You should be in school. Besides, Ruby here should be retired. She’s worn out and old. Don’t you think this load is too much for her?”

  “Heck no! I reckon she ought to retire, but the fact is I need her to help me.”

  April felt a twinge of pity momentarily for the boy, but it quickly vanished. He was not her problem.

  Morgan Kincaid inspected the riggings on each of the six horses harnessed to the Wells Fargo stagecoach for any signs of wear, just as he always did before starting on the next trip to Lewistown. Leon, his partner, was at the back checking over the axle and adding a coat of grease to the bearings in the wheelbase. They’d already swept out the coach from his last crew of passengers when they’d arrived early this morning.

  Morgan paused. If development had its way, they’d both be out of a job soon, as the Union Pacific and the Northern Pacific continued to spread out across Montana. People called it progress, but to Morgan’s way of thinking, it would be the end of an era that would directly affect him, and he was getting on up in age.

  He watched his friend hustle about and thanked God for Leon’s friendship. Leon liked to joke, but he was a hard worker and a good companion on the long drives. It was unusual for Morgan to have a white man as his trusted partner, but their friendship was a natural one born out of working together for many years. Morgan had been a shotgun messenger long before he started driving the team, and he was good at it, but with his eyesight not what it used to be, he’d hired Leon.

  Morgan had learned to handle the reins of a team when he was in his early twenties. It took great skill to handle six sets of reins wrapped securely around his fingers, then move each of them separately to guide the horses right or left. He’d learned early on how to use the muscles of his hands to adjust the pull of the reins. It allowed the horses some lack of restriction, but not so much that the horses could run free.

  He pulled out his pocket watch, and the hands glinted off the silver as he flipped it open. Almost six o’clock. He surveyed the small crowd near the platform of the relay station. An older couple, a young woman with a baby, a man, and a beautiful blonde-haired lady who was clearly agitated made up the list of passengers for this trip. Leon gave him the signal that everything was all set on his end.

  Morgan strode over to the group and addressed them in a rich Southern voice. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Morgan Kinkaid, and I’ll be your driver. We are ready to start our journey to Lewistown. First I want to inform you of a few rules if you’ve never ridden our coach before. When the driver asks you to get out and walk, do so without grumbling. I won’t request it unless it becomes absolutely necessary. Don’t growl at the food at the stations when we stop. Don’t smoke or drink on my coach, and don’t flop over your neighbor when sleeping.” He paused to let that sink in, watching for the reactions on their faces. “Don’t lollygag at the washbasin, and don’t keep the stage waiting—we may leave without you. Don’t think for one second that you are on a picnic; nothing could be further from the truth. Expect annoyances, discomfort, and some hardships, then we’ll all get along just fine,” he said with authority. “Are there any questions? If not, then let’s get started.”

  Billy came rushing up to him. “Mister Morgan, is there room for one more?” He almost slid into the blonde-haired woman but caught himself on the hitching post.

  The stagecoach driver turned around, and the woman drew in a sharp breath. “What are you doing here?” she asked Billy before the driver could answer.

  Breathless, Billy explained. “Ruby up and died last night, Miss April, after I let you off at the hotel. When I got her back to the livery . . . she just dropped.” He tried to hold back his tears. “I was just about to feed her oats . . .” He hung his head.

  Morgan pulled the lad aside, out of earshot of the others. “Do you have a ticket?” It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Billy around the depot. He knew that Billy was an orphan and was always hanging around learning what he could while carting passengers’ luggage and earning a bit of cash.

  “No, sir, not yet, but I could help with the horses.”

  “I don’t need any help. Why do you want to go to Lewis–town?”

  Billy sighed. “Maybe get a better job, and Miss April here was kind to me yesterday, and to Ruby. I thought maybe she needs someone to work for her and look out after her . . . or some–thin’.”

  Morgan chuckled. “I rather doubt that. She looks like she can pretty much handle anything.”

  “Could I squeeze in between you and Leon?”

  “Well . . .” Morgan scratched his chin.

  “Please, I beg you. I need a fresh start,” Billy pleaded.

  “All right, Billy, I’ll take you as far as Lewistown. You may be fourteen, but you shouldn’t be alone on the streets.”

  Billy murmured his thanks. “Shucks, I’ve been taking care of myself a long time now. You won’t regret it, I promise.”

  Morgan turned to the rest. “Time’s a-wasting and I like to keep on schedule. It’s 5:55. Let’s get our tails on the road. My partner, Leon, has stored your luggage on top.”

  They all piled in, April sitting next to the young woman with her baby and Mark on the opposite side with the older couple. The floor of the coach was cramped as well, filled with bags of US mail. April just wanted to sit back and close her eyes. She’d gotten little sleep last night and was up at the crack of daylight in order not to miss this stage.

  The stagecoach driver certainly seemed to be in control of things. She’d never been this close to a black person before. He appeared to be quite capable of handling the team, despite the gray in his wiry hair. His face was peppered by a white beard against paper-brown skin that resembled a dried prune. He was tall and muscular, and she noticed that he wore thick leather gloves with cuffs reaching up his forearm. Apparently he’d agreed to let Billy ride, because he’d scampered up to the front seat of the coach.

  It wouldn’t be too long and she’d be seeing her brother’s sweet face. How she missed him. And it was time that Josh settled down. She could hardly wait to meet the woman he’d chosen. April was sure he would have chosen someone equally wonderful. Or at least she hoped so.

  W
ith harness rattling and wheels creaking, the coach lurched forward, heading out of town, and was soon rolling at a fast clip. April ignored the passengers around her and closed her eyes, leaning her head against the edge of the window. The rocking motion of the coach was soothing, and soon she nodded off. She dreamed of riding her horse across the floor of the Yampa Valley with the autumn trees shimmering in the distance, nestled below the snow-capped Rocky Mountains. The wind was blowing through her loose hair, and she felt complete freedom and utter happiness.

  “Waaaaah!”

  The cry of a baby brought April back into the reality of a two-day ride crammed into the stagecoach with complete strangers.

  April watched the young woman as she tried to soothe her fussy baby, but nothing would quiet her. The lady’s name, she found out, was Beth Reed, and her baby was Anne. The older couple introduced themselves as May and Willard Wingate, going to visit family in Lewistown. Mark Barnum chatted with them and smiled as he watched Beth and her baby. April didn’t think she had one thing in common with any of them, and truth be known, she didn’t feel like getting to know them. This would be a miserably long ride indeed. She would remind Josh of that very fact when she saw him.

  May clapped her hands and held them out toward the baby. “Beth, let me entertain her for a bit, while you rest.”

  “Oh, I can’t let you do that,” Beth protested.

  “’Course you can. I have six grandchildren myself.”

  Willard piped up, “Better listen to her. She’s good with children.”

  Beth hesitated. “Are you sure? I’ve fed her, so she should be able to wait until we make our next stop.”

  Baby Anne went willingly into May’s outstretched arms and cooed while looking into May’s grinning face. It wasn’t long before the baby was nestled against May’s ample bosom, looking around at the passengers with her enormous eyes. Beth relaxed in her seat. April figured that she was worn to a frazzle from wrestling with her baby all morning. Babies looked like a lot of work to her. She’d much rather be outdoors or working the ranch horses or cattle with her father.

  “My gout is acting up, and all this jostling around is only going to make it worse,” Willard said.

  “Humph! You can’t be hurting any worse than I am, dear.” May glanced at April. “He doesn’t know what pain is. My rheumatism gives me constant pain, but you don’t see me complaining.” She glared at her husband.

  “That may be true, but with my heart condition I have to take things slow, you know.” Willard winked at April.

  “Deaaar, you think you have a heart condition, but you don’t know that for certain because you won’t visit the doctor!” May was clearly agitated.

  April saw a smile curve Mark’s lips as he stifled a laugh, and she glanced at Beth, who looked fast asleep. The baby’s eyes were slowly closing as well.

  “Perhaps you should get that complaint checked, Mr.Wingate, when you get settled at your daughter’s. I’m a doctor.” Mark handed him a business card.

  April cast a quick look at him. “I expected as much, but you never said anything about that.”

  “It never came up.” Mark directed his attention back to Willard. “Stop in and see me anytime. My office is right on Main Street.

  ” May twisted abruptly in her seat, disturbing the baby, who woke up with a loud whimper. “Then I’ll come with him too, so you can relieve me of my terrible headaches.”

  April saw Willard’s face twist into a frown. “By golly, you’re going to give me a headache with all your aches and pains!”

  April had never heard so many complaints from two people before, and she wished they would stop yakking about it. Maybe she could try to change the subject, but who could be heard above the baby’s crying? She couldn’t believe that Beth never stirred. All the more reason to just have horses. She could put them in a stall, corral, or pasture and go on about her business. They certainly never complained.

  Mark caught her eye. Her disdain must have shown in her face because he smiled at her. “We’ll be stopping soon to water the horses and take a fifteen-minute break.”

  April pursed her lips together to keep from complaining. The break couldn’t come soon enough for her. She sat facing the back of the stage and leaned out, gazing at the fast-moving landscape. The stagecoach left a cloud of dust some twenty feet behind them from the twenty-four hooves of the horses as they tore across the trail.

  “Those horses can really kick up some dust!” April idly commented to no one in particular. There was a big difference between the Montana and Colorado landscape, but both were equally beautiful. The wind lifted a few strands of her hair from their pins, and April pushed them back into place, but the breeze was a welcome breath of fresh air after the stifling smells of May’s heavy perfume mingled with the odor of Anne’s soiled diaper.

  2

  Wes Owen adjusted his brown Stetson and stared at his reflection in the old cracked dresser mirror. His straight, sandy brown hair fell past his collar. Should have gotten my hair trimmed, he thought. But he was trying to be careful with the little money he had, and just because he was going to a wedding, he didn’t think it was necessary to spend another fifty cents. It didn’t look too bad, as long as he had his hat on. His eyes were clear and bright as he examined the light stubble of growth along his jawline, and he was satisfied that he’d finally shaved off his mustache last week. He thought it made him look younger. He never had been one to shave every day, and he wasn’t about to start.

  He knew that he wasn’t exactly handsome but was rugged-looking from his deep tan and lines that crinkled around his eyes, a result of the sun. It’d have to do—it was the face God had given him. If it was God in the first place. He had his doubts, though his friend Josh had tried to convince him otherwise.

  Frowning at his reflection, he pulled on his shirt and faded jeans, thinking how flattered he was to be invited to Josh and Juliana’s wedding. He ran his fingers over the hand-tooled leather belt that matched his brown boots, loving the feel of the smooth leather and the rich smell of it. He’d spent more than he’d intended to on the boots and belt. He’d ordered it straight from Texas through a friend of his, and he knew that both pieces would last a long time. They’d have to, just like his saddle. Besides breaking horses, he’d always wanted to own a store where men who appreciated fine leather saddles and implements could be outfitted in the very best. But that was merely a dream.

  Wes glanced at the clock. He’d have just enough time to check out Lars’s wild mare before scooting on over to the wedding. He threw on his deep brown duster to ward off the September cold that had suddenly descended the last few days, and hurried out to get his horse. He saddled Dakota and slipped the bit into the horse’s mouth, then quickly mounted and jerked the reins in the direction of Lewistown.

  When the stage stopped, Leon instructed the passengers to get out of the coach in order to lighten the load while Morgan struggled with the stagecoach up the steep road. April sighed. At this rate, she would be surprised if she made the wedding at all. Her clothes were covered with dust and grime, and she dearly needed a bath. But at least she was in good company. The rest of the group didn’t look any better than she.

  Billy walked up to baby Anne and touched her hand. “Hello, little one,” he said, and she jabbered something unintelligible and drooled down the front of her dress. Billy looked at April. “I think she likes me.”

  April smiled at the young lad. “Of course she does. She’s like all females—we love attention,” she said, casting a knowing look at Beth.

  “Some of them do, but not all,” Beth said demurely as she shifted the baby to the other hip. There was a slight frown creasing Beth’s brow. “I need to change her diaper, but my bag is in the coach.”

  April stood watching with her hands folded. She knew nothing whatsoever about babies, except that they demanded plenty of attention.

  Leon scurried up to the group. “I’m afraid you’re all going to have to walk the rest of th
e way to the crest of that hill. Once we reach the top, we’ll board again for a short ride to where we’ll stop for lunch. Follow me and stick together.”

  “Just what I paid for. A chance to walk part of the way to Lewistown!” April sputtered as she lifted the hem of her skirt in aggravation. The ladies followed the men up the uneven road with Billy offering to carry Anne. The baby snuggled in his scrawny arms. A half-grown man in an adolescent body, April thought. She couldn’t help but notice how Billy seemed to like everyone and was always cheerful despite his bad fortune.

  Morgan had reached the top of the hill and was standing in the road, giving the horses a brief respite, when the group finally made it to the crest. “Folks, I’m sorry you had to walk that last stretch, but it was necessary. Our next stop is about twenty-five minutes away, and we’ll stop for an hour.”

  Beth walked up to the coach where Morgan stood. “Please, before we leave, I need to change my baby’s diaper. It’ll only take a moment.” Billy trudged up the last few yards, lugging Anne on his hip.

  Morgan looked at the young woman and her baby. There was something pitiful about her that he couldn’t put his finger on. He wondered why she was traveling with a baby and who she would be meeting.

  “By all means, for the sake of the rest of us . . . do let her have a few minutes to clean up the child,” April pleaded.

  Morgan turned to give April a sharp look. Probably never had to lift a finger to do anything in her young life. He nodded at Beth. “I was just about to say yes, Mrs. Reed. We’ll still be able to keep our schedule.”

  Beth reached inside the coach and grabbed her small traveling bag, then took Anne from Billy’s arms. “Thank you, Billy. You were a great help carrying the baby up the hill for me. I don’t know if I could have made it.”