I know how you feel. But he wouldn’t say that. Instead, he gave her a sympathetic smile as he brushed out the last of Thor’s coat and cleaned the clump of hair from the currying brush. “There you go, boy.” He patted the stallion’s rump and moved over to the next stall.
Was it his imagination, or did Gypsy eye him nervously? He wouldn’t blame her if she did. She’d been fairly docile when he saddled and rode her here, no longer a lively horse. Was that his fault?
“Here you go, beauty. Let’s make you comfortable.” He threw the left stirrup over the saddle, loosened the cinch and let the girth fall, then lifted the saddle and blanket off her back.
“You need a fresh blanket?” Laurie waved toward the tack room where multitiered racks held blankets and saddles.
“Yeah, I guess that’s a good idea. This one’s damp and needs airing.” Another homey feeling swept through him. Their families always helped each other, knowing they’d get their own things back in due time.
He grabbed a fresh brush and worked on Gypsy’s coat. His fingers swept over a dark, shallow dip on her back where the saddle had sat, and a chill plunged clear down to his belly. This was where he’d wounded her two years ago by slipping a large burr between blanket and horse to keep Garrick from winning the Independence Day horse race. He’d expected Gypsy to throw Garrick. Instead, the mare raced her heart out, every stride digging the burr deeper into her flesh. She and Garrick finished only a half-length behind Tolley and Thor.
Later, during the dance, Tolley picked a fight with Garrick, earning himself the Colonel’s sentence of banishment to Boston. And all because the Colonel had shown favor to the Englishman such as he’d never shown Tolley. Even now, shame vied with jealous anger. While he’d made friends with Garrick when he and Rosamond came through Boston on their honeymoon and had been forgiven by the man, now his brother-in-law, he’d never understand why his own father seemed to despise him. Or worse, never gave him a second thought, as though he didn’t even exist unless he got into trouble. And now maybe the Colonel would never know all Tolley had done to try to earn his favor.
“Tolley?” Laurie’s bright blue eyes shone with kindness.
Could she see his inner turmoil? He dipped his head to hide his face.
“Yeah?” He moved away from Gypsy and fetched a fresh blanket from the tack room, then smoothed it over Thor’s back.
“You sure you don’t want something to eat before you go to town?”
He placed his saddle on the stallion and reached under his belly to grab the girth. “No, thanks. I’ll grab a bite at Miss Pam’s.” After cinching the girth, he looked over Thor’s back at Laurie. “She still runs the café, right?”
“Yes. And still makes the best pies and cakes.”
“I seem to recall all of you Eberly ladies are mighty fine cooks, too.”
“We try.” Laurie moved forward as if about to jump down from the rail.
Tolley hurried around his horse and grabbed her waist to lift her down. Once her feet touched the barn floor, he didn’t want to let go. Marrying this pretty little gal would have all kinds of benefits, not simply gaining the Colonel’s approval. That selfish thought, so like his old way of thinking, broke his grip like a bee sting. He stepped back. “Those city shoes might turn your ankle if you jump. They’ll sure as anything get messed up if you tromp around these stalls.”
“I suppose so.” She sounded a bit breathless as she blinked those big blue eyes at him. “You sure you won’t stay for dinner?” she repeated.
“Still no, but thanks.” He started to chuck her under the chin like he used to but resisted the urge. Such a gesture might offend her.
“One of our cowhands can take Gypsy back to Four Stones.”
“Thanks.” He secured his carpetbag to the back of the saddle and mounted up. “See you later, Laurie.”
She reached up and squeezed his hand. “Welcome home, Tolley.”
How did she know those were the exact words he’d needed to hear?
* * *
As Tolley rode away, Laurie shook her head. No matter how fond of him she used to be, she also remembered his boyhood mischief and the way he’d hurt many people. Besides, despite how attractive he was, she refused to fall for a San Luis Valley man, especially one who wanted to settle here. Her future lay in Denver.
After picking at her noon meal, she tried practicing piano again. But she kept looking out the window to see if Tolley would ride by. A silly idea, of course, because he’d be in town at Mrs. Foster’s boardinghouse or Rosamond’s hotel.
Maybe she could spend time with Maisie and help with baby Johnny. One day Laurie hoped to have children, too. Oddly, all she could picture were pint-sized cowboys learning to ride on one of the tamer old cow ponies on the ranch. Another silly idea, because her children would live in a Denver mansion and attend boarding schools.
“Ma, if I promise not to work too hard, may I visit Maisie for a few days?”
“Why, what a wonderful idea.” Ma plunged the dinner dishes into the hot soapy water and began to wash them.
“I’ll dry the dishes first.” Laurie grabbed a tea towel.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Ma tugged the towel away from her. “You go on and pack a bag. I’m sure Maisie will welcome the visit. George, you be sure to saddle Laurie’s horse, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Seated at the kitchen table, Pa grinned and winked at Laurie. At least he didn’t treat her like a fragile flower. “I’ll take care of it, sunshine.”
By the time she’d changed clothes and packed, Pa had Little Bit saddled and waiting by the back door. He’d also put her rifle in the saddle holster as protection against possible encounters with coyotes or rattlesnakes.
She took her time riding the nearly five miles to Esperanza. The warm, sunny day had just the right amount of breeze wafting over the landscape. Birds sang or chirped in the shallow marshes along the road, and in the distance she saw rabbits out for an afternoon stroll. Or so her Denver friends might think. Laurie itched to shoot the critters to take to Maisie for supper. But that would involve skinning and gutting them. Maisie might not have time, and Ma would throw a fit if Laurie used a hunting knife to do the job.
At Maisie and Doc’s two-story house, she tied Little Bit’s reins to the front hitching rail beside another horse and the undertaker’s hearse. One of Doc’s patients must have died, and others needed his care. He must have returned from Four Stones Ranch after tending the Colonel.
Seated on settees and chairs along the wall in the front hallway, folks awaited Doc’s help.
“So glad you came, sis.” Maisie handed her infant son to Laurie and whispered, “If you can tend Johnny for a bit while Doc finishes up with the dead fella, I’d appreciate it.”
“I’d love to.” Laurie adored the chubby little rascal who’d thrown his tiny arms around her neck. She and her sisters looked enough alike that Johnny seemed to accept her without reservations. “Who died?” Like Maisie, Laurie kept her voice to a whisper.
“Dathan Hardison.” Maisie sounded sad, as though that varmint’s death wasn’t a relief, since he’d lingered near death since before Christmas. All that time, she and Doc tended him, valuing his life as much as any upright citizen’s.
Laurie had her own feelings about Hardison. He’d shot their sister Beryl during a bank robbery attempt. According to their sister Grace, the other outlaw, Deke Smith, repented and came to the Lord...right before he shot Hardison to keep him from killing Grace, Reverend Thomas and Marybeth Northam. Then poor old Deke died, too.
“Did Hardison ever...?” She let the question hang in