Linda Ford

The Cowboy's City Girl


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drown out the sound.

      “There, you are all clean.” She lifted the child from the water and dried her off. With no clothes to wear, she wrapped her in a dry towel. “Now let’s get your hair pretty for when your mama and papa come.”

      Again a look of fear and sadness and guilt crossed through Dolly’s eyes.

      Beatrice turned Dolly to face her. “Why does doing your hair make you afraid?”

      “Not my hair,” she whispered.

      “Then what?”

      “He’ll never find them.”

      Beatrice understood that she meant she didn’t think Levi would find her parents. “Why do you say that?” She brushed Dolly’s hair as they talked. Long, baby-fine and so fair.

      “’Cause they’s gone.”

      Gone? Had they abandoned the child? She rebraided the hair and hung the long braids in loops on either side of Dolly’s head. The child was beautiful. Why would anyone want to abandon her? “Where are they gone?”

      Tears filled her eyes but Dolly blinked them away and didn’t answer.

      Smokey, who had watched the entire proceedings from beside the stove, where she enjoyed a dish of milk, had turned to grooming herself. Dolly scooped her up and held her close. “Smoky is all I got now.”

      A shiver crossed Beatrice’s shoulders at the finality of Dolly’s words. Lord God, the One who sees and knows, please guide Levi to this child’s parents that they might be reunited.

      The minutes ticked away. Several times Beatrice went to look out the window but there was no sign of Levi returning. Darkness descended. She found a lamp and lit it. She washed the little garments in the bathwater and hung them behind the stove to dry, then carried the water out to Maisie’s plants, though with the rain of earlier and the dishwater later, it seemed they might have had enough to drink. Instead, she poured the water around the pink rosebush and paused to smell the evening scent of the flowers before she returned inside.

      Poor little Dolly’s head fell to her chest and she jerked awake just in time to avoid falling off the chair.

      “Do you want to go to sleep in my bed?”

      Again, that look of fear.

      “Maybe in this nice big armchair.” She indicated the one Maisie had Levi bring from the other room.

      “You’re going to stay here?”

      “Until Levi gets back.”

      “Okay.” Wrapped in a big towel, Dolly curled up in the chair and fell asleep.

      Giving up any attempt to be calm about Levi’s absence, she stood at the window watching and praying.

      * * *

      Levi rode up to the barn. It was late. Likely past midnight.

      He’d found Dolly’s parents. He only wished he could have found them alive.

      He unsaddled Buck but before he tended to feeding him, he examined every corner of the barn. The troublemakers would have had plenty of time to do their mischief with Levi gone long past dark. He discovered nothing amiss. Charlie’s horse stood in the stall where Levi had left him. His cousin must be sleeping in the bunkhouse. Perhaps his presence had been a deterrent to those responsible for so many things in the last few days. He’d have a good look around outside before he went to the house.

      His throat tightened at the news he had to relay to Dolly. The poor child. She’d likely been with her parents when they passed on. What an awful thing for such a young one to deal with.

      He lit a lantern and circled the ranch buildings. The gates were all up, the breeding stock content in the pen. He could find nothing to cause him concern so returned to the barn and finished taking care of Buck before he made his weary way to the house.

      A lamp still glowed in the kitchen window. Had Beatrice stayed up or had she left the lamp burning to welcome him home?

      He paused at the door, hating to take this information to the child. A surge of gratitude filled him knowing Beatrice would be there when he did.

      As quietly as possible he opened the door and slipped in. At the sight before him, he paused and smiled. Dolly curled up like an overgrown kitten in the chair Maisie had previously occupied, her little kitten beside her.

      Beatrice sat at the table, her head cradled in her arms on the well-worn wooden tabletop. All three of them—woman, child, cat—were sound asleep.

      A sense of rightness stirred his senses. A feeling that this was the way his life should be. Coming home to a pretty young woman and a contented child.

      His jaw muscles clenched. Helen had ruined that possibility for him with her judgmental ways. Not that she was entirely to blame. It’s just that he had allowed himself to think she saw him differently.

      But for just one moment he let himself think of a wife and family. Then with a quiet sigh he pushed his thoughts back to where they belonged and tiptoed to the table. He touched Beatrice’s shoulder.

      She jerked awake, looking confused, and then recognition dawned. “You’re back.” She smiled.

      Her smile was not one of welcome for him. At least that’s what Levi told himself as he tamped down a matching response. “Shh.” He indicated the sleeping child. “Come outside. I’ll tell you everything.”

      Together they tiptoed to the door. He snagged a jacket from the nearby hook and draped it over her shoulders as they stepped outside. The night was cool and damp and filled with the scent of roses. Or was that Beatrice’s unique scent? It must have been because he couldn’t remember ever being so aware of the roses filling the air with their perfume before.

      She turned to him, her features barely visible in the dark. He shifted so the glow from the window allowed him to see her face.

      “Did you find them?” Her question jolted him back to reality.

      He sought to find the right words. But how else could he say it but just say it? “I found the wagon a few miles away.” He drew in a deep breath. “A man and a woman were dead inside.”

      She gasped. Her eyes widened.

      Fearing she would faint again, he caught her shoulders and steadied her.

      “She’s an orphan? How awful. She tried to tell me.” The truth of the situation flooded her eyes with horror. “She was with them? How long have they been gone?”

      He told her everything he knew. “It looks like they died of the influenza. The sheriff agreed. I took the wagon to town, where he arranged for a quick burial. He examined the contents of the wagon. Dolly is Dorothy Knott. The sheriff discovered information that she has an aunt Martha in Ohio and will send a telegram in the morning. The aunt will take care of Dolly once she can make arrangements.”

      Beatrice shuddered. “The poor child. I keep thinking of her watching her parents die, being so alone and not knowing what to do. Oh, Levi, it’s too awful to think about.”

      At her agonized wail, he gripped her arms and she squeezed his. They held each other. He found comfort in her arms and hoped she found the same in his. Two people who barely knew each other united in their concern for an orphaned child.

      “What’s to become of her in the meantime?” Beatrice’s voice was muffled.

      “The sheriff suggested someone in town could care for her until her aunt arrives, but it didn’t take him long to realize everyone was dealing with either illness or death. He asked if she could stay here for now.”

      “You said yes?”

      He inhaled the scent of roses, letting the smell soothe his senses. “I said it wasn’t up to me.”

      She drew back and looked into his face. “Who is it up to?” Her eyes searched his for the answer.