Chapter Six
The first thing Morgan noticed when his men arrived with the buckboard the next morning was Faithful being led by Murph. “Where’d you find him?”
“I guess you could say he found us. My horse was with him, and they were headed in this direction. Their saddles are in the buckboard. They look spent, and I’m thinking we need to give them a rest before we take off.”
Morgan stroked Faithful’s neck, grateful to have him back. “I guess I read Deke right.” He slapped Murph on the shoulder. “I’m sure happy to see you two. Did you have any problems?”
“None.” Murph pointed to the horses he had tied to the buckboard. “I bought these horses from Barnett, and he loaned us the buckboard and some pistols. We have plenty of water and some grub his missus made for us. He said he’d try to have the doctor at his place by the time we get back.”
“That was good of him,” Morgan replied. His eyes slid to Rose. “I think she could use something for pain.”
“How’s she doing?”
Morgan lowered his voice and said, “Not good. She hasn’t eaten since you left and she’s barely had anything to drink. I think every rib in her body may be broken.”
Murph grimaced. “That has to be painful.”
“She hasn’t moved around much and I worry about pneumonia.”
“How’s George’s leg?” Murph asked.
“Good. He’s moving around pretty good with a crutch.”
Murph took in Morgan’s haggard appearance. “You look like you could use some rest.”
Morgan didn’t mention his own lack of sleep. “I’ll rest easier once Rose has seen the doctor. Did you get a telegram off to the sheriff?”
“Yeah, but we didn’t wait around for a response.”
While they allowed time for the horses to rest, Morgan warmed water so Rose could wash. The men prepared a place in the buckboard to make the journey more comfortable for her.
When they were ready to depart, Morgan told the men he would be driving the buckboard. “I’ll be taking it easy so Rose won’t bounce around more than necessary.” He carried Rose to the back of the buckboard and made sure she was comfortable. He could tell her breathing was still shallow, and he worried if riding in that buckboard was going to be too much for her. “We’re in no hurry. If you need to stop for any reason, just say the word.”
“I will.”
Morgan climbed into the seat, and wasn’t surprised to see George pulling himself up beside him.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable in the back?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m used to handling the team,” George grumbled.
“You will be handling the team soon enough,” Morgan replied. “Let me know if you need to stop.”
“Try not to hit all the ruts,” George teased.
Morgan cast one more glance at Rose before he snapped the reins.
* * *
When Morgan pulled the horses to a halt for a lunch break, he thought Rose looked like she was barely hanging on. He’d tried to stop several times that morning, but Rose insisted they make no special stops for her. Even though they kept a slow pace, the uneven terrain made it impossible for her to keep from bouncing around.
Exhausted from the pain, Rose chose to remain in the wagon during their break. Morgan offered to assist her from the buckboard, but she declined, saying, “I believe I will stay here, Mr. LeMasters.”
“Call me Morgan. We are going to be here for a couple of hours to rest the animals. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather get out and change positions for a while?”
“No, I’ll be fine right here.”
“We’ll get some lunch together and make some coffee.” Morgan thought she looked completely exhausted. He didn’t think it was a good sign that she didn’t want to move. He’d noticed she seemed to have a fondness for coffee, and he wondered if she’d object if he laced it with some of George’s whiskey. It might help her to sleep so she wouldn’t feel every bump in the road.
“If you need anything, just yell out.” He pointed to an area just a few feet from the wagon. “We’ll build a fire right over there, so I’ll hear you.”
“Thank you.”
“She’s not looking too good,” Murph said to Morgan as they were unharnessing the horses.
“I’m thinking of giving her a dose of George’s whiskey to help her go to sleep.”
“That might not be a bad idea. Do you think she will go for it?”
Morgan had tried to think of a way to politely insist she drink some whiskey, but he didn’t know how he’d go about it. “Nope.”
Murph chuckled at Morgan’s expression. He looked like he’d rather step into a den of vipers than offer Rose a drink of whiskey. “Ladies don’t usually partake of hard liquor.”
Once the men prepared some lunch, Morgan filled a plate for Rose. He poured a half cup of coffee and asked George to top it off with whiskey.
Morgan walked toward the wagon and saw Rose reading her Bible.
When Morgan reached her, Rose placed her Bible in her lap, and took the plate from him.
“How are you feeling?” Morgan asked.
“I’m fine.”
She didn’t look fine in his estimation. “You need to eat something.”
She looked down at the food on the plate, and while she appreciated how he was looking out for her welfare, she had no appetite. “Thank you, Mr. LeMasters, but I’m really not very hungry.”
“Call me Morgan,” he reminded her.
“Of course.”
He didn’t know if he should insist she eat, or if he should leave her alone. He decided it would be better for her to rest than eat, so he said, “I won’t badger you about eating if you drink this.” He handed her the cup of coffee. “Before you take a drink, I want you to know I put a bit of whiskey in there. I thought it might help you rest a mite easier.”
She accepted the cup and gave him a wry smile. “Granny often put whiskey in tea if one of us had a bad cold.” She was at the point she would drink anything if it took the pain away. After swallowing a small sip of the laced coffee, she tried not to grimace at the taste. “It’s not so bad.”
Morgan would have laughed if he hadn’t been so surprised. He’d expected a battle to get her to have a little drink of whiskey. “Hopefully, you can sleep the rest of the day.”
She handed him the plate of food. “You can eat this.”
Morgan grinned at her. “A deal is a deal. Since you’re drinking your coffee, I won’t argue. But I don’t know what the whiskey will do on an empty stomach. Maybe you should have some of the biscuit.” Morgan held the biscuit to her.
His smile nearly made it impossible for her to form a thought. It reminded her of the day in the churchyard when she realized why all the women stopped to talk to him. His smile almost made her forget about the pain. She didn’t want to get sick, so she took a small bite of the biscuit.
Morgan balanced the plate on the side of the buckboard as he started eating.
“You don’t have to stay here and eat your lunch. I promise I will drink my coffee.”
“Did you forget I’ve been sitting all morning? I prefer to stand for a while.”
Rose sipped her coffee, and covertly studied his face. She’d never thought a man was as handsome as Morgan. It didn’t take long before she was feeling the effects of the alcohol. To her surprise, her pain seemed to be subsiding.
“I guess you will be glad to get home,” Morgan said.
“Yes, I’m anxious to see Granny. I’ve worried about her over the last few years. She always writes that everything at the farm is fine, but I won’t be happy until I see for myself.”
Morgan didn’t want to add to her worries, but she’d been sorely misinformed if she thought the Langtry farm was going well. “She seems to be in good health.”
“It’s hard to tell from letters how someone is really doing. I thought she sounded lonely.” Rose knew Granny would never trouble them with bad news, or want anyone to worry about her, but the tone of her letters over the last six months had been different. Her letters weren’t as long, and it seemed to Rose as if Granny had something on her mind that she chose not to share.
“Granny keeps busy. She’s basically the town doctor now that Doc died.”
“She wrote that Joseph Longbow often helps out with tending to the sick,” Rose said.
“He’ll venture as far as your farm, but rarely goes to town,” Morgan said.
“Were you telling me the truth that Joseph wasn’t badly injured?”
“Yes, the bullet just grazed his hard head.”
Even though he smiled when he said the words, Rose knew that if anything happened to Joseph, Morgan would be devastated. Joseph had been with Morgan a long time, and Granny always said he was very fond of him. “I knew Joseph rarely left your ranch when I was a child, but I never knew why.”
Morgan didn’t respond to her subtle inquiry about Joseph. “Are your sisters coming back home?”
She hadn’t really expected him to say more about Joseph. “Yes. Addie will be here in a few months when the school period ends. She is a teacher in an orphanage. My eldest sister, Emma, is accompanying a traveling troupe presently. You may have heard she is an opera singer.”
Morgan seemed to remember Granny mentioning the opera singer at some point. “I believe Granny told me.”
“Emma will be traveling to Denver to perform onstage before the year ends, and we will see her then.”
Morgan had heard tales of traveling troupes and the women who chose that lifestyle, but he didn’t express an opinion. He looked into Rose’s eyes and could see the alcohol was already relaxing her. He thought he would keep her talking so she would finish her coffee. “What did you do back East?”
Rose’s ambitions seemed to pale in comparison to her sisters’. All she’d ever wanted was a husband and children. “I was the governess to my great aunt and uncle’s two grandsons for three years.”
“Do you plan on returning?”
“No. I always planned to come home to Whispering Pines. I never wanted to live in the East permanently.”
“I expect it was difficult to leave your charges after three years.”
His statement surprised her. She couldn’t fathom a man like Morgan LeMasters loving anyone as much as she loved those two young boys. When the day came that she’d had to leave them behind, she knew she was leaving part of her heart with them.
“It was a difficult decision as I am very fond of them, but Granny needs me more. The boys will be coming with their grandparents to visit next year.” She smiled thinking of how excited the boys were when their grandparents made plans to visit the farm. Granny would certainly be surprised. She hadn’t seen her brother in over thirty years, but they had always corresponded regularly.
“How old are the boys?”
“Seven and eight, and they are so very inquisitive.”
Morgan grinned, remembering what he was like at that age. He wanted to see and do everything. “I imagine it will be quite a journey for them if they’ve never been west of the Mississippi.”
There was that smile of his again. She looked at his mouth and blinked. What did he say? Oh, the boys. She gave her head a slight shake. “Ah . . . no, they’ve never left Boston.” She could imagine how thrilled the boys would be to meet a man like Morgan for the first time. They’d been enamored with the stories she often told them about the cowboys of the West. Quite often she realized when she was describing cowboys, she was actually recalling Morgan’s physical attributes. They loved to hear the stories of men who slept out on the open range, wore six-guns and Stetsons. She’d told them stories of the Indians, and the tales of Whispering Pines. To boys who’d never known anything other than city life, it all sounded thrilling and quite dangerous. Naturally, their father wanted them to follow him in the study of law, but that profession didn’t seem to garner their interest. They dreamed of riding horses, roping cattle, and learning to shoot pistols.
Seeing the smile on her face, Morgan couldn’t help but ask what she was thinking.
“I was thinking how excited they would be to see a man like you,” Rose answered honestly.
Morgan placed his plate on the floorboard, folded his arms on the rail and leaned closer to Rose. “What do you mean, a man like me?”
Rose could feel a blush creeping up her neck. “Well, a larger-than-life cowboy who wears a pistol and rides a big horse. They’ve never even been on a horse.”
Morgan couldn’t imagine boys that age who didn’t ride. “How could boys that age have never ridden a horse?”
“Their parents have never been on a horse, and they considered it a dangerous activity. I’m afraid they wouldn’t allow me to teach them.” The one time she’d arranged to take the boys riding, their parents were quite upset with her. She’d tried to explain that all young men should be able to sit a horse, but they could not be persuaded. She had to respect their decision, but she’d promised the boys when they came for a visit, she would definitely teach them to ride. It was their secret, and she knew it was one the boys would never reveal.
Morgan thought of her other comment. “What do you mean by a larger-than-life cowboy?”
She didn’t want to insult him by saying dime novels were written about men like him. “I meant your size. You’re . . . you’re . . . larger-than-life. You can be quite frightening.”
The whiskey was working on her. She was much more talkative, and Morgan liked her honesty. Murph always told him he was intimidating to most people. Right now, he didn’t want to scare the prettiest little rose he’d ever seen. “Does my size scare you, Rose?”
Rose smiled at him. “When I was young you scared me to death.” She didn’t know why she’d admitted that to him so easily.
Morgan stared into her eyes. “What about now?”
“I’m not a small child anymore.”
He couldn’t argue with the truth of that statement. She definitely was no longer a little girl, but a very beautiful woman. And Morgan didn’t know quite what to make of the fact that he was very attracted to her.
They gazed into each other’s eyes, and didn’t hear Murph approach.
Murph held a plateful of food toward Rose. “I saw Morgan eating your food, Rose, so I brought you another plate.”
Morgan was caught off guard by Murph’s untimely appearance, and he was about half aggravated that he had interrupted them. He’d liked the way Rose was talking so freely. “She wasn’t hungry.”
Morgan’s abrupt tone wasn’t lost on Murph. Nor was the blush covering Rose’s cheeks. He glanced from Rose to Morgan. “Did I interrupt something?”
Morgan didn’t know why he was miffed. He should be thanking Murph. He reminded himself that Rose was Frank Langtry’s sister. No matter how beautiful he thought she was, or how much he was attracted to her, he couldn’t forget that fact. He picked up his empty plate and turned toward the fire. “Nope. You didn’t interrupt anything.”