Pony Express Special Delivery. Rhonda Gibson. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Rhonda Gibson
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Вестерны
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474069830
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hay into the horse’s pen next to the one Clayton and the spent pony stood in.

      Clayton filled a feed sack with oats and hung it over the horse’s stall door. Then he proceeded to brush the animal down as it ate. “Where have you disappeared to the last couple of days?” he asked.

      Hal stopped shoveling and leaned on the fork. “Boss had us fixing fences.”

      “They’re all fixed now?” Clayton continued brushing as if the question he’d asked was of no importance at all. He hoped Hal would talk freely about the running of the ranch. For Maggie’s sake, Clayton prayed all was going well.

      He shrugged. “I reckon. Boss says we are to go back to our regular chores.”

      “I thought you said you worked for Maggie. Who are you calling ‘boss’?” Clayton ran his hands down each of the mustang’s legs.

      He listened as Hal answered. “Oh, I do work for Maggie. At least, she’s the one who pays me. But the real boss is Mr. Fillmore. He gives the orders and does the hiring and firing.”

      “Gus Fillmore?”

      “Yes, sir.”

      Clayton continued examining the mustang for any sign of stress on its legs and body. As if talking to himself, he said, “I wonder why everyone can go back to work as usual today.”

      “Probably because the boss had to run into town today. Figured we knew our jobs well enough to get back to them.”

      Clayton stood and brushed the mustang’s back. “How many men work for Mrs. Fillmore?”

      “Just five. Me, Bud, ole George, Abraham and the boss.” He grinned across at Clayton. “Ole George is our cook. He’ll have breakfast ready here in about ten minutes.”

      Clayton hadn’t given much thought to whom he’d eat with. He’d just assumed he’d cook his own meals, but now that he thought about it, there really wasn’t a kitchen in his room, or even a makeshift kitchen.

      “Did Bill eat with you boys or fend for himself?”

      Hal put the fork back against the wall. “Bill didn’t like the boss too much, so Ole George would have me bring him a plate.”

      Clayton nodded. “I see.” He knew that the Pony Express supplied him with food, but he hadn’t received a shipment yet.

      “Would you like to meet the other men or should I bring you a plate later?” Hal asked as he walked toward the exit.

      Clayton put his brush away and followed him. “I’d like to meet everyone.” If he was going to protect Maggie from Gus, Clayton planned on finding out just how loyal Gus’s men were to him.

       Chapter Four

      A week later, Maggie’s mind was on the ranch. Things had fallen into a routine she could handle as she recuperated from childbirth. Clayton had checked on her and the children every day. He took his meals with the men but seemed ever watchful of the house. Whether his scrutiny was intentional or not, it afforded Maggie with a peace of mind she hadn’t felt in a long time.

      She was having a hard time keeping Dinah out of the barn. Her little sister seemed to adore Clayton. It was all Maggie could do to keep the little girl out of his and the Pony Express riders’ hair. But if she scolded Dinah, Clayton rushed to her defense and assured Maggie that Dinah was no trouble and was not in the way; that he liked having her underfoot.

      Her thoughts returned to the running of the ranch. Gus had been right when he’d said since she had two children to take care of she wouldn’t have time for overseeing the ranch. How was she going to make sure Gus was doing a good job? She wanted to go out and ride the fence lines, but with an infant, that wasn’t going to happen. And her body would never handle riding a horse; at least not the way she felt now. Was this normal? Perhaps she’d ask one of the ladies in town when next she went for supplies. It would be so nice to have another woman’s opinion on the changes that had taken place in her body. She sure couldn’t ask any of the men.

      Maggie felt her frustration grow. Everyday chores were difficult with two children underfoot. Each night she fell into bed exhausted. The doctor had said she should be able to do routine work within a week. He’d also advised her to let Clayton help as much as he wanted.

      Could she do that? Maggie stroked the baby’s tiny hand. She fretted that she didn’t really know Clayton Young. Other than the fact that he’d saved the baby, gone to town to retrieve the doctor and that Dinah liked him, Maggie knew nothing else about the Pony Express man.

      Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Before he’d left, Bill Evers, the previous Pony Express manager, had come up to the house and asked if he could visit with Maggie for a few moments. She’d agreed and offered him coffee and cookies. While the man had eaten almost a full plate of gingersnaps, he’d told her that his replacement was a nice young man who would be a great help around the place.

      Her gaze moved to the window at the front of the house that looked out toward the barn and bunkhouse. So far, Bill had been right. She’d seen Clayton repair a corner of the barn roof, build a small fence around the chicken coop, as well as gather eggs during the last week.

      Maggie frowned. On the other hand, Gus Fillmore neglected most of the chores. He had tried to stake his claim to the ranch the day of Jack’s funeral, but when he’d discovered that Jack had a will and had left the ranch to his unborn child, Gus had stormed off so angry he could spit, but later returned and offered to stay on and help.

      She would have loved to have sent Gus packing as soon as her husband had been buried, but since most of the men had quit and she’d been so sick with her pregnancy, Maggie had allowed her late husband’s cousin to stay on. Now with hindsight she wished she hadn’t.

      Bill, the former Pony Express manager, had warned her to keep a close eye on Gus and the ranch books. Maggie had intended to ask Gus about the ranch ledger, but he’d found reasons to be gone before dawn and back long after she and Dinah had gone to bed. After a while, Maggie had given up on him bringing the ledger to her and planned on going in search of it after the baby was born.

      The day she’d gone into labor, Maggie had been surprised to discover not one of the hired men anywhere near the house when she needed someone to go get the doctor.

      Tears pricked the backs of her eyes at how close she’d come to losing her son. She kissed his soft downy hair, which looked as if it were going to be honey colored, much like her own. The light wisps tickled her lips.

      Maggie hugged him closer. Her love for James far surpassed the realization that if the baby had died, she and Dinah would have possibly been forced by Gus to give up the ranch, as well.

      She watched from the window as a Pony Express rider came thundering into the yard. Clayton met him with a fresh horse and a smile. They exchanged a few quick words, and within moments the rider’s horse raced back onto the trail. Clayton glanced toward the house and then began to return to the barn.

      Impulsively, Maggie hurried to the front door and called out to Clayton. When he looked in her direction, she yelled, “When you are done with the horse, would you come to the house? Please.”

      He nodded, then continued to the barn. In the kitchen, Maggie filled a plate with sugar cookies. She made sure the coffee in the pot was still hot.

      She gazed down into James’s sleeping face. His small features looked more like hers than her late husband’s. Even though they were closed, Maggie knew his eyes were the only thing that resembled his father. They were dark blue, unlike her hazel eyes that often held more green than any other color. She hurried up the stairs and laid him in his dresser drawer. Dinah lay on the bed fast asleep. Maggie usually enjoyed a nap with the children but knew she needed to get out of the habit of sleeping the afternoon away.

      Making sure both children were covered, she walked back down the stairs. She hadn’t spoken more than