Pony Express Courtship. Rhonda GibsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
shame in not fighting when the odds are against you.” He laid a hand on the young man’s shoulder. It was obvious that Andrew had either backed down from a fight or had fought and lost.
“Maybe, but I will never let a man take what is mine away.” Andrew straightened his shoulders and stepped away from Seth.
It was obvious that the boy was hurting, but Seth didn’t think now was the time to confront that hurt. He decided to pray about it instead. “Well, I think I’ll turn in now. Do you need me to spot you for a few minutes? Or will you be all right until Philip relieves you?”
Andrew’s shoulders drooped. “I’ll be all right. I don’t have much longer to wait now.”
“Good night.” Seth walked away, leaving the young man to his guard duty and his own thoughts. Each boy had a story to tell. He couldn’t help but wonder about Andrew’s.
In his room, Seth kneeled down beside his bed and prayed. “Lord, please help me as I work with these young men. I know Andrew is hurting. Please help him to overcome his past and look toward a bright new future. And, Lord, if I can be of service to You or him, please show me how. Amen.” He pulled himself up on the side of the bed.
Working on the Young farm could possibly be more challenging than he’d expected. Seth couldn’t deny that he found Rebecca Young attractive and that made him cautious to even explore thoughts on the matter. How could a man, in such a short time, feel so strong a connection to another person? He could almost guess her next words and he read the expressions on her face and in her eyes so easily. Yet, when it came to the workings of her mind, she seemed to guard herself carefully. And that made him want to keep himself separated from Rebecca and the rest of her family, but, on the other hand, he also felt as if he wanted to jump in with both feet and help them in any way he could. But in doing so, would he regret the outcome?
Rebecca peered out the window, tongue-tied in surprise as the stage sloshed through the rain puddles in her front yard. What on earth was it doing here? The stage never passed this way. She stepped out onto the front porch.
Seth dashed from the bunkhouse, trying to avoid the tracks made from the wheels. He pulled off his hat and arched a brow at her as he bounded up onto the porch. “I didn’t think the stage stopped here,” he said in way of greeting.
“It doesn’t,” Rebecca answered, watching as the stage came to a complete stop.
The driver jumped from his seat up top. Water and mud splashed around his already soaked pant legs as he hurried to open the door in the pouring rain.
Rebecca watched as a tall, thin, mustached man with graying hair descended the coach steps. He carried a briefcase and his boots shone like oiled lanterns. Rebecca almost cringed as he stepped from the last rung directly into the mud. Mr. James Bromley, one of the Pony Express division superintendents, had graced them with his presence.
She whispered to Seth, “Were you expecting him today?”
“No, I was not,” he said with quiet emphasis. “I can only assume he’s here to check on my progress with the boys.”
Mr. Bromley stepped up onto the porch. “Mrs. Young, Seth.”
Seth stepped forward and shook the older man’s hand. “Mr. Bromley, you chose a dreary day to come for a visit.”
The other man laughed. “It’s pleasant here. In other places along the route they’re still getting snow.”
Rebecca stepped forward. “Please, come inside out of the rain. I’ve made a fresh pot of coffee and you can conduct your business out of the weather.” She held the door open.
“Thank you, Mrs. Young, that would be most appreciated.” Mr. Bromley wiped his feet on the rag rug she’d placed in front of the door and then swept past her. The smell of cigar smoke wafted from him to her sensitive nose.
Seth took the door and held it open for her. He offered an encouraging grin. She passed him in the doorway and immediately noted that Mr. Bromley had made himself at home.
Joy sat on the floor beside the window playing with blocks the boys had given her from the scraps they’d used in rebuilding the barn. She looked up in surprise to find a stranger sitting on her mother’s couch.
“Joy, come with me to the kitchen. We’ll leave the men to discuss their business in private.” Rebecca didn’t wait for the little girl to respond but turned toward her comfortable kitchen. The hearty scent of fresh-brewed coffee filled the sweet-smelling kitchen.
When they were out of earshot of the men, Joy asked, “Ma, can we give Seth some of the cookies we made?”
The two of them had spent the morning making sugar cookies. “I’m sure he would like that. Why don’t you get a plate and put some on it. Make sure the plate isn’t chipped. We want to present our best to Mr. Bromley, don’t we?”
“Yes, Ma.” Joy hurried to the cupboard and reached for one of the special plates used for company. “I hope he likes them.”
“Who? Mr. Bromley?” Rebecca asked. She suspected her daughter was talking about Seth. The little girl followed him around like a puppy. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind.
“Yes, but also Seth.” The little girl moved to the big platter of cookies that sat on the counter and picked out several bigger ones. “I think these are the prettiest, don’t you?” she asked.
Rebecca glanced over her shoulder and looked at the cookies. “They sure are,” she agreed.
The smile that graced her daughter’s sweet face pushed away some of the concern Rebecca felt at Mr. Bromley’s arrival. She prayed he’d approve of Seth’s methods and progress with the boys. She told herself it had nothing to do with liking Seth, it had to do with the boys having to adjust to a new station keeper, if Mr. Bromley didn’t approve of Seth and his methods.
A few minutes later, she and Joy were back in the sitting room passing out coffee and cookies. Seth smiled his thanks. He appeared relaxed so Rebecca assumed all had gone well in the men’s discussion.
“I hope you like sugar cookies, Mr. Bromley,” Rebecca said as she handed him his cup.
He selected a cookie from the plate Joy held out to him and smiled. “As a matter of fact, I do.” Mr. Bromley took a bite, closed his eyes and sighed.
Joy smiled at Seth. “I made them. Do you like them, too, Seth?” she asked.
Seth met Rebecca’s gaze over the little girl’s head. He took a bite of the cookie and chewed slowly. A teasing glint entered his eyes as he asked Joy, “Did you dip your finger in the batter?”
Joy shook her head. “No. Ma says that’s yucky and not to do it.”
Seth laughed. “Well, these are the sweetest and best cookies I’ve ever tasted.”
“Mrs. Young, have you considered selling your coffee and cookies?” Mr. Bromley asked in a serious voice.
She set down the coffee tray and frowned. “No. Besides, who would I sell them to?” Rebecca doubted she could sell them at the general store and she didn’t want to deal with Mr. Edwards to try.
He sat forward. “I’m glad you asked. Part of the reason I’m here today is to tell you that we’d like to use your farm as a stagecoach stop as well as a Pony Express home station.” The older man stopped speaking and let his words sink in.
Rebecca looked to Seth, who simply shrugged his shoulders. She turned her attention back to Mr. Bromley and asked, “Do you need my permission to have it stop here?” She wasn’t sure if having her home become the stagecoach stop was a good idea. How would it affect the boys?
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