A Home for His Family. Jan DrexlerЧитать онлайн книгу.
man will appreciate a spinster being thrown at him.”
“Oh, now,” Aunt Margaret sputtered, “I would never throw you at him. He attends the church and is a very eligible bachelor. He is the manager of the First National Bank of Deadwood, and his father is the owner.”
As she ended her sales pitch, Sarah sighed. “If he is that eligible, don’t you have to ask yourself why he isn’t already married? In my experience, once a man reaches a certain age without being married, there is usually a good reason for it.”
“In your experience? My dear, you haven’t had that much experience.”
Sarah watched the children at the window. Charley had found a spider and the three of them were engrossed in its meal of an insect caught in its web. She would rather not talk about men with Aunt Margaret. Her aunt had been thirty-five when she met Uncle James, fresh from the mission field in China. Since she had married late in life, she held that there was hope for every woman. But a man, at least a good man, was a rare bird.
Nate opened the door between the two rooms and stepped in.
“It’s time for Charley and me to head back to the wheelwright’s. The axle should be done by now.”
Sarah turned to greet him. His timing couldn’t have been better. Maybe he would take Aunt Margaret’s mind off Wilson Montgomery.
“I’m so glad we met in town so you could inspect the new church and school with us.” She crossed the room, slipped one hand into the crook of his elbow and swept the other across the room with a grand gesture. “This is our academy. What do you think?”
His gaze followed the sweep of her hand. “It’s a right fine room. But you’ll need desks, won’t you? And a chalkboard? And books?”
Margaret was watching them, so she leaned a little closer. “I brought books with me, and Uncle James will build benches for the students to use.” She looked up at him. “I’m not sure what to do about the chalkboard. Do you have any ideas?” She considered batting her eyes, but she had never done that to any man, and she wasn’t about to start now.
He lifted her hand off his arm and stepped away. “I’m sure you’ll think of something, Miss MacFarland.” When he grinned, a dimple appeared in his chin. She hadn’t noticed it yesterday. Shaving certainly made a difference in a man’s looks.
Nate walked over to the window. “Charley, it’s time to go.”
He ushered the boy toward the door leading to the alley and turned to Sarah. The shadow of his smile still lingered. “We’ll come for the girls as soon as we get the wagon fixed.”
“You’ll stay for supper tonight, of course.” Aunt Margaret’s voice denied any argument.
Nate turned his hat between his hands and looked at Charley. “I appreciate it, ma’am, I surely do. But the children and I need to set up our camp.”
Sarah’s throat tightened. Once he left with the children, would she ever see him again?
Her face heated with a sudden flush. Where had that thought come from? But still, something made her want to have more time with him. And the children.
“You must eat supper with us tonight.” His eyes met hers. “And I think I know where there is a perfect spot for you to camp, right near the cabin.”
He glanced at the children, watching him. They were waiting for his decision with bated breath, just like she was.
Finally he shoved his hat on his head. “I know when I’m outnumbered.” He turned to Aunt Margaret. “I’m certainly beholden to you for your hospitality, ma’am. I don’t know how I’ll be able to repay you.”
“Pishposh.” Aunt Margaret waved her hand in the air. “You don’t need to repay anything. We’re glad to have the company.”
Sarah followed him to the door and stepped outside. Charley wandered toward the front of the building, but Nate turned to her. Sunshine had chased all the morning clouds away, and it shone brightly into the alley. She shaded her eyes with her hand as she looked up at him.
“I’m glad you decided to have supper another night with us. I would hate to give up the children’s company so soon.”
“Is it their company, or are you still going to try to talk me into letting them come to your school?”
“You know already that I would love for them to attend and that I think it is the best thing for them.” Nate started to turn away, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. “But I will respect your wishes concerning them.”
He looked at her, his chin tilted just enough for her to see she hadn’t convinced him, but his teasing grin lingered.
“You won’t mention the school, to me or to the children?”
Could she just give up on making sure those children had an education? On the other hand, Nate was their uncle. Maybe she could convince him that they both had the children’s best interests in mind.
Without mentioning the school.
“I promise. As long as you promise we can be friends.”
One corner of his mouth turned up. “Friends? All right, friend.” He stepped backward. “I’ll see you at suppertime.” He caught up with Charley at the corner of the building and disappeared.
Yes, he certainly was a rare bird.
Replacing the axle was easier now that Nate had figured out how to work with Charley. The boy’s nimble fingers slipped the ironings into place as Nate held the axle against the bolster. Even so, it was late afternoon before he had the horses hitched up and they were ready to drive to the MacFarlands’ cabin.
Instead of the shorter route up the steep hill on the north end of Williams Street, James had recommended the more gradual ascent up Main Street to Shine, and then to Williams. Nate and Charley had led the team down that route before picking up the new axle, and it was still going to be a hard pull for the horses with the loaded wagon.
Charley climbed up onto the seat next to him and Nate chirruped to the horses. Before too long they reached the outskirts of the mining camp, where tents crowded along the road. Miners of all description watched them pass. Groups of young men, old sourdoughs, even a couple families. Soon they’d be heading to their claims, now that the snow in the hills was melting. Men who had secured claims along Whitewood Creek were already at work, standing knee-deep in the rushing water with their pans, or shoveling dirt and gravel into rockers.
Nate glanced at Charley, who watched the miners with wide eyes.
“They’re sure working hard, aren’t they?”
The boy nodded. “I thought gold miners just picked nuggets up off the ground, but what they’re doing doesn’t look like much fun.”
“Mining is dirty, backbreaking work. And not too many find success.”
“Then why do they do it?”
Nate watched two men shovel gravel into a sluice. “They’re looking for an easy way to get rich, but they’re learning the only way to success is hard work. The ones who keep at it will do okay, but others will give up before the month is over.”
“That’s why we’re going to be cowboys, right?”
Nate nudged Charley’s knee with his own. “That’s right. We’ll be working hard, too, but at the end, we know we’ll have something to show for it.”
They passed the wheelwright’s shop and Chinatown. The street was crowded as they approached the Badlands and Nate slowed the horses to a walk, threading their way between freight wagons unloading their goods and the crowds spilling off the board sidewalks into the mud.