Little Sam's Angel (12 page)

"Danny has the measles," she explained, tipping her head to look again at Danny's face.

Gabe had to twist his own head at an uncomfortable angle to see the face lying on his chest. What he saw was a rash, covering the boy's face, and by moving the blanket, he could see it covered his arms, legs, and belly. "That goes away, don't it?" Gabe asked.

Sammy laughed, a quick, delightful sound, nodding her head. Gabe grinned back at her, seeing the relief he felt reflected in her face.

"All we have to do now is keep him quiet in a dark room so's he don't go blind," she told him.

Her words scared Gabe. How would he cover the windows to keep the sun out? "Guess I can hang a blanket up," he said, shifting Danny so he could get up and get back home before the sun rose.

"Guess it's already done," Sally said. "You'll have to keep him in bed with you, but—"

"Cain't he sleep in his crib? I don't think he ought to be on the floor."

Sally and Sammy looked at each other then back at him. Then Sally realized he meant to take Danny home. "You bull-headed, mule-headed—"

"What'd I do?" Gabe asked in astonishment.

"You ain't taking that baby out of this house till the very last spot is gone. You want to blind him or make him catch a chill?"

"No, but—"

"Certainly not," she said, grabbing him by the elbow. "You brought him here for me to care for, now just do what I say." She pulled him off, Gabe guessed to a bedroom in the house. He looked back at Sammy to see how she was taking it, saw a look of approval and gave up.

* * *

The bed was comfortable, easy to sleep in. He was there for three nights, careful to do everything Sally told him, so there'd be no chance of making his stay any longer. It wasn't because they weren't the nicest people he'd ever met. They were, but the more he was around Sammy, the less likely it was that he could keep from showing how he was starting to think of her. Sometimes he thought maybe she was feeling the same, like the time she told him it was one of her father's shirts he was wearing, and he filled it well. He pretended he thought she meant the fit, afraid maybe he was wrong about her meaning he was as good a man as her father.

When he put his own clothes back on, the shirt had been ironed and the button he remembered tearing off was back on it. Sally said she didn't do it when he thanked her, which meant Sammy'd done it, like maybe she liked doing for him. Then he'd remember what Morey had told him how her pa taught her to never look down on no man and how she was just naturally considerate and told himself he was seeing more into it than he should.

Sammy stayed gone most all day every day he was there, but anytime she came around him after she came in for the evening, he got an all-choked up feeling and tongue tied. If it weren't for talking about Danny, he wouldn't be able to say anything at all to her. Maybe they all thought it was all right for him to talk to her, but they sure wouldn't think it was right if they knew he was thinking of her in a whole lot different way than friend and neighbor.

When he and Danny got ready to leave she was standing on the porch. Sally was in the wagon with Danny, and he was wishing he had Danny in his arms or a hat in his hands since he didn't know what to do with them while he thanked her again.

"Anything I can ever do to repay you, you just let me know," he said lamely.

"I've yet to repay you, Mr. Taylor. Good-bye."

She disappeared into the house before he could ask her what she meant, leaving him with a feeling like he'd forgot to wipe his mouth and had egg on it from breakfast. It was the kind of thing that works on a man's imagination, so he asked Sally what she'd meant.

"Saving the place for her, I reckon," Sally answered.

"Smith set the bargain, not me."

"You could have kept it from her, and that place means a whole lot more than you realize."

"Hardly be missed with all she's got."

"Not that piece. Ain't you never wondered why the house is so nice, why it had a garden already planted, or why it has a well and a pump in the house?"

"Always figured it was too much for what it was built for," he admitted.

"Well, you seen where she is now."

"You mean she's going to move there?" he asked with a start.

"Got a sentimental streak, that girl does," she said with a nod. "When Big Sam came to this valley that was where he built his first house. Not too much different than the one there now, only it never had no pump in the inside, just the well."

"Then why wouldn't she take it?" he asked angrily.

"Couldn't while Big Sam was alive. He burnt the first house down not to be reminded of his wife after she died, and he wouldn't see another built."

"Why ? Why build so ugly a place as he did after that?"

"The thing in this world that mattered the most to him was his wife. When she died he didn't want nothing to remind him of where they'd lived, and he set out to make sure Sammy would never be weak like her mother was."

"Sounds like it was a hard life for her."

"Wasn't till she learned she was different than most girls. Real defiant about it at first, determined to be the best rider, shooter, and rough-neck around, but it was tearing her up inside when she got older. Me and Morey could see that."

"Sally, maybe you oughtn't tell me this, it being private like."

"Ain't private, those in town will get around to telling it to you soon enough. Mrs. Jones will be the first, the first time the opportunity comes up," she went on. "It was her that made the first dress for Little Sam, and Sammy ripped it off, screaming she'd never wear one. You can bet Mrs. Jones talked that up good 'bout it being unnatural."

"Someone ought to sew her mouth shut."

"Well, for all that, she's the one that helped the most with saying things that Little Sam did that weren't right for a lady were excusable on account of Little Sam didn't know any better."

"Then they do think she's a lady," he said, thinking he'd won at least one argument with Sammy.

"No, not in the manner you mean. Folks don't think she's bad, but they don't really think she's what you'd call a lady, either."

"She is, too."

"Not refined, Gabe. Sammy's thought of as respectable, but sometimes crude."

"That don't make sense," he said sullenly, not liking the thought of anyone calling Sammy crude.

"You couldn't expect no different the way she was raised. She wore britches till she was twelve, and it took us three years to get her to wear those riding skirts regularly. You're looking at it wrong. People love her, and just about anything off-color she does is forgiven or ignored 'cause she's Little Sam."

"Dumb thing to call a woman like her," Gabe said. Didn't matter what they called her as far as he was concerned. She was a beautiful woman.

"Samantha is her given name. Only one that ever uses it is Hedges. Me and Morey got too used to calling her Sammy to remember the other."

"Sally, what has this to do with why she feels grateful to me?" he asked suspiciously.

"I told you, it's 'cause you saved the place for her. Just think of what that place she lives in looks like."

Gabe thought of it and looked back at her blankly. It wasn't a pretty place, he had thought that the first time he saw it, but he had the idea that wasn't what Sally wanted him to see.

"It's a man's place. Did you notice any womanly things in it?" she asked impatiently.

"Just in the kitchen."

"Pots and pans ain't what I meant. There ain't a frilly whatnot or knick-knack in the place. No rugs on the floors, no lacy curtains on the walls. The furniture is big and ugly. There just ain't any female things there. Big Sam wouldn't allow it."

"So she built her a house to put them in?" he asked incredulously.

"They'd look wrong in Big Sam's house. It's a house for a man, and it'll do just fine for Morey when she turns it over to him. She wants a house for a woman, where she can be a woman without feeling Big Sam is looking over her shoulder telling her what foolishness it is."

"She's a woman wherever she is and a lady. What you're saying don't make sense," he shot back, impatient with what he considered nonsense.

"Men can sure be thickheaded," she said in resignation. Then she added, "You got anything against her fixing her place up now, instead of waiting till you move out?"

"If it's so important to her, I'll move out now."

"And go where?" she snorted.

"May as well be looking. It ain't going to be that long before those boys of hers get back with her cattle money."

"I didn't mean to go and make you feel like you was being pushed out. Just that she's got all them things she ordered and made, and it seems a shame to leave them setting in boxes when they could be in use."

"I won't use it," he exclaimed. "No, now you just listen. She can bring it on over if she wants, but I ain't going to use any of it. What if me or Danny broke something?" Seeing her face tense up in anger, he explained. "It's her house. She can do what she wants with it, but I won't take no chances on spoiling anything."

He'd live with it, no matter how it made him feel. He had a pretty good idea how that would be, too, wishing he was the one going to be living there with her.

* * *

Sally was angry at his stubbornness, but she was so pleased with the success of the first part of her plan that she let it slide. Nothing would make a man realize what a good wife a woman would make than seeing how she set up a house, nothing that is unless it was seeing the way a woman could care for a young’un. Sammy had already proven herself on that one, and Gabe had revealing more than he realized to Sally's quick ears, but then, that was the kind of thing Sally listened for. It was true that she told him more than she would anyone else, but the real reason she was telling him was a decision she and Morey had already come to. Setting the house up would be easy, and Sally was working on the next angle.

She thought maybe she'd go to town. Hedges was the one to think of angles. Hadn't he got Gabe to stay there when everyone knew he'd planned to leave right away?

Chapter Eight

Danny had gotten spoiled, having Gabe there to hold him whenever he whined that one little word. The first day when Gabe left to get back to cutting wood, Danny threw a tantrum. Sally knew it was a good sign, even if it grated on her nerves. She wanted to go to town herself, but because of Danny's behavior, she settled for hailing the first rider she saw and had him take a message to Hedges. Hedges was there late that afternoon before Gabe came in for dinner. An alliance was formed, and the next step of their attack was planned. Hedges took over at the dinner table.

Gabe could hardly hear Hedges for Danny's wailing. "Hold," he cried, stretching his arms out to Gabe from his highchair.

"You finish eating first," Gabe said, sitting down at the table.

"Hold," Danny squalled, shoving his food off the tray onto the floor.

"What's got into you?" Gabe demanded in astonishment.

"You showed him all the love he needs to know. Now it's time to show him discipline," Sally said.

"You mean spank him?" he said, horrified at the idea of striking Danny.

"If he dumps this on the floor, I do," she said, sitting a second bowl on the highchair tray.

Danny reached out to shove it off, and Gabe jumped to hold his arm. "No," he said firmly. "You eat that, or I won't hold you at all tonight."

"Hold," Danny wailed again.

"You eat first."

Danny subsided, his lower lip out and tears welling in his eyes.

"Don't you fall for that," Sally warned. "When you gonna build me that fencing I asked for?"

"Eat your food first," Gabe said, managing to keep his voice from showing the uncertainty he felt. Danny had been sick, and like as not he still didn't feel too good. Maybe Sally was being too hard on him, and the idea of the fence cage Sally wanted to keep Danny in didn't set too well with him. "I'll start on it as soon as Hedges brings me some nails and a hammer," he told Sally.

Danny sobbed, tears rolling down his little cheeks. "Hold," he pleaded again.

"Eat first," Gabe said gruffly, then turned his back on him. He'd give it a few minutes, and if Danny didn't stop crying, he'd take him no matter what Sally said.

Danny sobbed, making horrible sounds as if his grief was choking him. It made Gabe's own food taste like sawdust.

"Young’uns is like women," Hedges observed. "They know nothing will make a man's knees turn to water like them tears."

"He's been sick," Gabe told him.

"Don't look it. 'Bout the healthiest baby I've ever seen."

"You better quit picking at your food, or he'll be done before you are," Sally told Gabe and nudged him on the arm.

Gabe looked up then turned back quickly to keep Danny from seeing his grin. The funny choking sounds Danny was making were coming from trying to shove all the food in his mouth at one time, making Gabe feel like he'd just conquered the rankest bronc around. "Guess we need to teach him some manners," he told Hedges.

"You do it. I'm going home," Sally said. "You'll have to give him a bath before you put him to bed with all that mess on him."

"Grouchy old woman," Hedges said as she walked out.

"Just sounds that way. I sure don't know what I'd do without her," Gabe said, deciding Danny had choked himself enough in an effort to obey.

He went to the counter for a rag to wash Danny, stopping when Hedges asked, "Give much thought to how you will?"

"Yeah, and I ain't come up with any answers I really like. Just have to hope I find someone like her wherever we end up."

"You could stay here, Sammy'd put you on if you asked, and—"

"No," he answered sharply.

The answer was too quick for argument. Hedges went on to another suggestion. "Then keep the place."

"I promised it to her."

"She wouldn't hold you to it."

"I don't want it," he said, going on to wash Danny's arms and face. It was hard to do with Danny pulling his hand away to reach for the rag.

"Don't lie to me, Gabe Taylor. You're a cattleman, and there ain't one alive that wouldn't give his right arm for this place."

"It's hers."

"Then marry her."

Gabe straightened up with a jerk and stared at him.

"That way you'd both have it," Hedges added blandly.

"You talk like you been mule-kicked," Gabe said, throwing the rag at the sink. "Where would I get off asking a woman like her to marry me?"

"What's wrong with her?"

"Ain't nothing wrong with her," Gabe retorted.

"Well then, why not? You're both single."

"'Cause I'm a nothing cowhand, and she's got acres."

"You got this place, and she wants it."

"And she'll get it, but not by marrying me. What would folks say?"

"Maybe that she made a good choice."

"Bull. They'd say I married her for her ranch, and I won't shame her like that."

"You saying that's the only reason a man would ask her?"

"No," he said, looking away quickly. He took great care and interest in freeing Danny from his chair, much more than was necessary and retorted, "Could be I wouldn't have no right to even think of it."

"She don't really own them acres you was talking about, not till she buys up them claims. You do own yours."

"They're not mine."

"Paper that deed's written on says different."

"Hedges," Gabe warned quietly.

"Don't go getting a head of steam up. I'm just saying that what you own outright means more to her than any of them other pieces. Could be she'd see it as equal."

"I wouldn't and neither would anyone else. If I'd come in here with something besides the clothes on my back, maybe it'd be different. I didn't have nothing, and I wouldn't have if you hadn't staked me in that game, then left me that deed and taken the cash."

"Big Sam didn't have much more when he came to this valley, but I can see this talk is riling you, so I won't say no more. Got something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"More of your tricks?" Gabe asked suspiciously.

"I admit I done some before, but this is different. I filed me a homestead, and I want you to prove up on it for me. I'll give you half of it for your trouble. That way you can stay close enough that Sally can keep caring for the boy for you."

"I don't know, Hedges," Gabe said, thinking of how much he wanted to stay, and why for that very reason he ought to leave.

"It ain't much, Gabe, but it can be a good piece of grazing land," Hedges said eagerly. "Now my idea is to not mess with cattle. They eat too much, and they're too darn ornery and stupid."

"You wouldn't do anything dumb like bringing in sheep?"

"No, but I'd sure like to raise some prime horses. Not that mangy mustang stock they got around here, but thoroughbred horses. Maybe some Morgans for good hauling teams, too. He leaned forward to draw a map on the table. "This piece lays here, just one section to the north of Rocking M. It's one of them small places I told you about. The man isn't gonna be able to prove up on it."

"But the man's still there, claiming it," he said in disgust.

"No, well, he is now, but he won't be. I wouldn't get you into something like that, Gabe. I swear it." He did so with his hand held solemnly in the air.

"Then what's the catch?"

"There ain't none, I tell you. The man's an Easterner. He come out here thinking he was going to make an easy fortune. Well, he's found out he ain't likely to, not by homesteading. He's disgusted and ready to quit."

"But he hasn't yet," Gabe said, shifting Danny to a more comfortable position.

"Gabe, his house burnt down. He's only got one month left to build another to prove up the claim. I'm telling you, he's so disgusted, he won't do it."

"Hedges, now damn it, you just said, you've already filed on it." He shifted Danny again.

Danny was restless, wanting to be talked to and not over. Gabe kept shifting him because he kept squirming for attention.

"I made the papers all out. Soon as I see him marching through town on the way out, I'll record them."

"Convenient being the only land agent in town. It sounds shady to me," Gabe said in distraction. Holding Danny had become a wrestling match.

"No one can file on it till he leaves it, and I'm gonna be watching. What's shady about that?"

"Watching with the papers in your pocket. What if–ow! Dang it, Danny, sit still."

"Get the hair on your chest?" Hedges asked with a chuckle as Gabe rubbed the spot where Danny had grabbed his shirt to pull himself up.

"I ain't got so much to yank out, but he found it. I don't know what's wrong with him tonight."

"Maybe he's tired," he suggested.

Gabe looked down to see if Danny looked tired and found him with his bottom lip out and eyes full of tears again. "I think maybe he's just spoiled. You sit still, hear, or I'm going to put you on the floor."

That made the tears spill out of his eyes, but Danny sat still. Gabe shifted him around again, more so he couldn't see the tears than for comfort.

"What about it, Gabe? Will you work it for me?"

"I don't know Hedges. I ain't too sure I want to stay here, and what you're talking about doing don't sound quite fair."

"Would you feel better if I gave him some cash for what he has done around there? I think he's got some fences up, and he did get a well dug."

"I don't know."

"Close enough Sally can care for the boy."

Gabe shook his head, still wondering if he could stand being that close to Sammy.

"You could use the money you got for things for you and the boy, instead of spending it on moving around."

"I'll think on it, but you see him and offer a fair deal, even if it's only enough to buy him a ticket away from here."

"I'll do it first thing tomorrow," he declared, slapping his hand on the table gleefully.

Danny jumped in surprise, and Gabe said, "I ain't promising nothing, Hedges. Don't you get file on it, counting on me to work it."

"Naw, I want it anyway," he lied.

* * *

The house grew into a home with lacy curtains at the windows, knick-knacks, whatnots sitting around on the furniture that either man or woman could live with, but they all had the look of a woman picking it out. There were rugs on the floor and fancy lamps hanging from the ceilings. Gabe grew to be more and more uncomfortable in the place, and he kept his word. He refused to use any of it.

He stayed in the kitchen and bedroom whenever he was there, but even those rooms, absent so far of the new furniture, were invaded by her touch with curtains at the previously bare windows. That night after Sally left was the worst for him, when he found the bedroom he slept in had been filled with furniture.

His bed of straw was gone, and his blanket was on the bed, a double size, four-poster. He told himself he'd sleep in the barn before he remembered Danny and scrapped that idea. He figured she could have waited on filling that room. It wasn't right, her moving a thing like that bed in, a thing so special to a man and wife, expecting him to sleep in it, then leave it for her to move into.

He thought of fixing a bed in the other, smaller bedroom where Danny slept only to defiantly shove the bed aside. He went for fresh straw for a bed, thinking it was a rotten shame no one had taught her the indecency of it.

Gabe knew from what Sally told him that the curtains and rugs Sammy had either mail ordered or made while Smith was in the house. The whatnots and other furniture she had collected even before the house had been built, some of it her mother's, cherished and saved before Big Sam could destroy it. What she had, she'd been happy to let Sally take for Gabe and Danny to use, even if she didn't know he refused to go in any of the rooms where Sally put her things.

* * *

Sammy had no knowledge of the bedroom suite, planning to use what she had when time came for her to move. Hedges was the one solely responsible for the attack on Gabe's nerves. He figured he'd give the furniture to them as a wedding present, not for one minute thinking the plan he, Sally, and Morey had concocted would fail. The only hitch he'd had in that phase of execution was the hackles it raised on Sally when he brought the bed out. She thought it was indecent, too, but since Sammy's happiness was at stake, she gave in.

Sally was relieved to find the bed shoved up against the wall the next morning. Gabe had even gone to the trouble of rolling the rug up before he brought his straw in. Those actions meant to her, that his heart and morals were in the right place, even if he did have more pride than was good for him.

Also to Sally's relief, Gabe was so mad about it he didn't mention it. The only thing that disturbed her about the progress of their overall plan was Gabe still hadn't agreed to work the homestead for Hedges to keep him in the area until their plan saw success.