Texas Mail Order Bride (11 page)

What got her attention was the way Ben gazed at Cooper. The boy's eyes reflected so much love and a good helping of hero worship. Ben had a bad case of it if she ever saw one. He looked up when he spied her in the doorway.

“Miss Delta, I'm eating supper with you at the café. Mr. Cooper said I could.”

Her first inclination was to set the boy straight right then and there and tell him she had no intention of sharing a meal or anything but a piece of her mind with Cooper Thorne. But she hadn't the heart to do that to Ben. He'd had so little happiness.

No telling when he'd had such a treat, if ever. She couldn't see his good-for-nothing father taking him for a nice meal at a café.

Cooper rose. “I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty.”

The man was a master manipulator. He knew good and well that it was the only way to get her to eat with him. At least with an audience he wouldn't be tempted to talk about kissing and long walks in the moonlight.

When Ben scampered across the room and threw his skinny arms around her, she could no more refuse than stop breathing.

“Thank you, Miss Delta. Oh boy, this is the best day of my life.”

She smoothed the boy's hair. Ben Barclay had had a hard row to hoe in his short life.

And no one was more versed in hard rows than Delta.

A pretty waitress appeared at Cooper's elbow before they even got settled into chairs at a corner table. Delta took in her dimples and big bosom.

The woman leveled a wide smile at the tall rancher. “Hi, sugar. What'll it be?”

Delta and Ben might as well have been a piece of the faded wallpaper for all the notice the trollop took of them.

“Whoa there, darlin', give us just a minute.”

In spite of Delta's resolve to not let Cooper affect her, his deep voice sent tingles sashaying up her spine and he wasn't even speaking to her. But then, the vexatious man exuded more magnetism and charisma than anyone she'd ever met. Shoot, if he took a notion, he could easily charm the gold right out of a rich matron's mouth without half trying.

“Well, just give a shout when you're ready, Coop.” The brazen hussy disappeared.

“I realize you're much more versed in the art of conversation, but is it wise to speak so familiarly?” Delta picked up her napkin and put it in her lap.

“Laurie knows I don't mean a thing by it.”

“I wouldn't be too sure about that.”

“You sound a little jealous there, Miss Delta.”

“Good heavens, Mr. Thorne,” she drawled. “I'm not some schoolgirl easily smitten by a handsome rogue.”

“More's the pity.” His eyes darkened.

Heat rose to her cheeks. She shouldn't have gotten so worked up.
Delta
Rose
Dandridge, get ahold of yourself
, she scolded. If she had the sense God gave a turnip, she'd get up and leave and take what pride she could muster with her.

“What strikes your fancy, Ben?” Cooper tucked the boy's napkin into the neck of his shirt.

“I ain't never been here. What do they have?”

Grateful to have something to do, Delta read the chalkboard on the wall to him, then announced that her choice was the ham, green beans, and carrots.

“Can I have the fried chicken, Miss Delta?”

“You can have whatever your heart desires,” answered Cooper firmly. “Fried chicken it is.”

As though on cue, Laurie reappeared, again at Cooper's elbow. “Did you decide, sugar?”

Cooper ordered for Delta and Ben, then told her he'd have the steak, red beans, and coffee. “And bring hot apple pie for everyone.”

The silly woman trailed her fingertips across Cooper's shoulder as she left. She probably would personally cook his meal, cut it up, and feed it to him, if he made his wishes known. Some people were so transparent.

Men! They were as dumb as posts sometimes.

“Jenny has a high opinion of you, Miss Delta,” Cooper said. “I'd say you're well on the way to becoming fast friends. Thank you for all you've done.”

“No thanks are needed. I have a soft spot for Jenny and Ben. She'd have done the same for me.” She grew silent when Laurie returned with Cooper's coffee, then left presumably to get her tea and Ben's milk. “I guess you've known Jenny for quite a while?”

“Yep.”

“Must seem like family to you.”

“For a fact. Ben too. Why all the questions?”

“No reason.”

He took a sip of coffee as his left eyebrow rose in challenge. “Look, something needs to be said, so I'm just going to let it fly. I appreciate you looking after Jenny and Ben when I wasn't around, but I can handle things now.”

In other words, fry your own kettle of fish and leave mine alone.
Heated words rose, but being mindful of Ben, she swallowed them. A strained silence fell around them.

Finally she spoke, but the words came out stiff. “How is Bandit?”

“Who's Bandit?” Ben asked.

They told the youngster about the little dog, and Cooper promised to take him to see it soon.

“Oh boy! I can't wait.” Ben's enthusiasm quickly died. “I asked Pa for a dog, but he said dogs don't earn their keep. He told me I'd have to start earning my keep or he'd take me to the orphanage. He can't do that, can he? I don't want to leave Mama and you.”

The boy's quivering chin relayed the fact he was holding back tears. It brought a lump the size of a peach pit to Delta's throat. She got out of her chair and, kneeling down beside Ben, drew him to her in a fierce hug.

“You leave your pa to me,” Cooper declared in a tight voice. “He isn't going to take you anywhere, son. You can bank on that.”

The rest of the meal went well. Delta was careful to keep it light and happy even though she seethed inside. The nerve of Hogue Barclay and what he'd done to his son. Then she took into account their most delightful waitress, Miss Darlin'. She longed to tell Cooper that she was
not
jealous of that woman or anyone else for that matter. All the women in Battle Creek could take him, and good riddance.

It was all for the best that she hadn't gotten to address the kiss. With the mood she was in, she probably would've told him in no uncertain terms to go kiss a warty old toad next time he got the urge to pucker up.

The utter gall of the man, to tell her that he could handle Jenny and Ben from here and to mind her own business!

***

An hour later, she was still fuming as she looked out over the town from her room. It had become a custom, and she wasn't quite sure why she felt compelled to bid the town good night before she went to bed. She'd never had a town belong to her before, and it took away a few of the stings.

A moon bathed the buildings in silvery rays. The pale glow showed her what the establishments could look like in broad daylight with a little work and a willing spirit.

An idea took root in her mind. She would have to do a little more thinking on it, though. She didn't want to do anything to jeopardize her presence.

Just then, movement below captured her attention. Someone, a woman from the looks of it, was on her hands and knees in the small burial plot. Who on earth?

As she pondered the identity of the person, she looked up and the moonlight shone on her face.

Granny Ketchum!

The old woman appeared to be pulling weeds. Now Delta knew why the graves were so well tended. She had to go help. She quickly threw on her clothes and laced up her shoes.

Granny looked up when the creaking gate gave Delta away. Kneeling down beside the woman, Delta began yanking up weeds as fast as she could.

“Why are you cleaning up here in the dark, Granny?”

Pausing in her task, the woman answered, “Weren't anyone's business, I suppose. Didn't want 'em yammering about it and tryin' to make more of this than it is.”

“But why do you do it?”

“Well, sweet girl, I'll tell you.” Tears swam in Granny's eyes. “My brother disappeared along about the time this battle happened that killed these men. He was one of them surveyors, you know. I think one of these graves holds his bones.”

Delta's arm slid across Granny's shoulders. “I'm sorry.”

“Oh, it ain't so bad most times. After the sun goes down, though, I get to missing my loved ones something fierce. In the daylight I can piddle in my garden an' whatnot. But at night I cain't do a blooming thing to get away from the ghosts.”

Ghosts were pesky that way.

“Let's finish up here so I can get you home,” Delta said, yanking another weed.

“I'd be obliged if you'd take a cup of chamomile tea with me, girl. It helps me sleep.”

“Thank you. I'd love to.”

She'd do anything for the old woman who'd taken Delta into her heart. And if she got a chance, she might just ask Granny about Cooper's relationship with Jenny. She was sure Granny had an opinion or two about that.

Once they got the plot de-weeded, she sat with Granny in her kitchen, sipping a cup of hot tea. To her dismay, the old woman didn't provide any answers.

“No, siree. That's always puzzled me. I remember when Cooper and his brothers came to town. I believe it was about seven years ago. I recollect that the snow was coming down, an' it was colder than the dickens. Always thought that man is the handsomest cowboy that ever put on boots an' a hat.”

So much for wondering if the man's family founded Battle Creek. The ticking clock was loud in the room as Granny sat lost in thought.

“What else do you remember, Granny?”

“Well, they dove right in and worked at whatever job they could find. Those boys weren't slackers. Why, they mucked out stalls at the livery, rode shotgun on the stage, or whatever else they took a notion to do.” Granny's voice lowered to a whisper. “But I knew they had a powerful secret. I could especially see it deep down in Cooper's gray eyes.”

Delta wondered what had happened to them. From appearances they seemed to have landed on their feet all right.

“What were we talking about?” Granny asked.

“Cooper and Jenny.”

“Oh, were we? What were we saying?”

Delta stood and put her teacup in an empty dishpan. “I think I should probably go. Can I help you to bed?”

“That would be so nice, dear.”

With a steadying arm around the stooped woman, Delta helped her to a small bed that was surrounded by so much clutter it barely left room to walk. In fact, the whole house seemed to be one large trash pile. No wonder Granny kept losing things. The poor dear desperately needed help.

And Delta made up her mind that Granny would get it.

Somehow or another things were going to change, even if she had to move a mountain or two.

After work the following day, Delta, armed with a broom and mop, headed toward Granny Ketchum's. Beside her marched a small galvanized army that consisted of Mabel King and Violet Finch, who wore her most conservative hat—one that sported a real live bird's nest amid lavender and orange netting. Perhaps it was appropriate—after all, they might very well find bird's nests amongst the huge piles of collected stuff.

She rapped on the door of Granny's shack.

The old woman looked puzzled to see them standing on her stoop. “What are you doing here, dear? Did we make plans?”

“Remember that I promised last night I'd clean your house?” It was possible Granny had forgotten. She'd been very sleepy when Delta had told her.

“If you say so, but I don't have any money to pay you.”

“We don't expect payment. Wouldn't take it if you were to offer. It's friends helping friends. I enlisted Mabel and Violet.”

“Then I reckon you'd best come on inside.” Granny held the door open wide. “Just don't bother my important papers.”

“We're not going to throw anything away until you say it's okay. Deal?” Delta couldn't imagine Granny Ketchum having anything of too much importance. Maybe her mind had taken to wandering again as it seemed to do on an hourly basis.

Granny nodded. “I'll hold you to that.”

It didn't take Delta and her two helpers any time to set to work. Piles of newspapers, probably every edition since the settling of the frontier, were everywhere. They waded through a collection of empty boxes of every shape, size, and color. They found spoons all over the house, under the bed, under the rocking chair, hanging over the doors, and even in Granny's knitting basket. And everywhere they went, Granny was right behind them, snatching things out of their hands.

Turning to the old woman, Delta asked about the meaning of the spoons.

“My grandpappy—he was a Gypsy, you know—told me they bring good fortune. The more you have out, the better luck you'll have. Or maybe it was to ward off evil spirits. I cain't rightly recall.” Granny grinned. “I put out a few extra for good measure.”

“Yes, you did for sure. I'll return them all to their places. Wouldn't want you to fall trying to get them back up.”

“I 'spect you think I'm a foolish old woman.”

“No, not at all. You're wonderful and loving and you're my adopted grandmother. I count myself very fortunate.”

They'd barely begun to make a dent before they had to quit and get back to the boardinghouse for supper.

“We'll return tomorrow.” Delta kissed Granny's cheek. Thank goodness it was Saturday and John Abercrombie had already given her the afternoon off. “We'll have your house straightened up in no time.”

Tears clouded Granny's pale blue eyes. “You're too kind to a poor old woman. You should be out sparkin' with Cooper…er, a man, dear, instead of cleaning my house.”

“Don't you worry, Granny, I'll see that Delta doesn't spend
all
her time working,” said Mabel. “But it won't take more than a couple of days to get your place in order. We've already started, and we're not quitting until we sweep out the last speck of dirt.”

Delta hid her embarrassment. The last thing she wanted to do was spark with a man. Especially Cooper Thorne. Let him go spark that trollop who'd called him sugar. Delta didn't have time to waste on the man.

Still, he had a way about him that left an indelible mark. The wild ride in the buggy when he'd been worried about Jenny and the way he'd protectively anchored her to his side to keep her from falling out sprang from the recesses of her mind.

Friends? They seemed more than that in a way. Or maybe it was because she'd never had a friend before she came here.

Vowing to give him the benefit of the doubt, Delta reached to shut the door. The sight inside broke her heart. Granny Ketchum was dragging stuff out of the pile of things she'd agreed they could throw away. She fiercely clutched her belongings to her, unable to lose yet another thing in her life, no matter how small or insignificant it appeared.

Joining Mabel and Violet, they moved down the street.

A man with a long snowy beard that came within an inch or two of his waist sat on a bench in front of the saloon. He called out, “You ladies marchin' off to war?”

“Not exactly.” Mabel stopped to chat. “How are you doing, Abner?”

“Cain't complain. At least not too loud. Wouldn't have a leg to stand on.” The old man threw back his head and roared, revealing his toothless gums. Delta noted the crude crutch propped beside him and the empty left pant leg.

“At least you can still laugh, and that's something.” Mabel patted his bone-thin arm.

“Reckon so, Miss Mabel. Who's that there with you besides Miss Violet? Ain't seen her around these parts before.”

Delta approached the bearded man with her hand outstretched. “I'm Delta Dandridge. I'm new in town.”

Abner spit on his palm and wiped it on his shirt before shaking her hand. “Whoo-ee! You're a purty thing. Name's Abner Winchell, ma'am.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Winchell.”

“Bless you, girl. Ain't no one called me mister in a coon's age. I'd get up from here an' join you but cain't do more than hop around like a wounded sparrow. Lost my leg in the big war. Reckon I know more'n most about pain an' misery. Now I just sit an' wait for Gabriel to blow his trumpet.”

“I'm sure it gets hard,” Delta agreed. “I'm really glad I made your acquaintance. Always nice to meet a new friend.”

“We gotta be going, Abner,” Mabel said. “Gotta feed my boarders. You look after yourself now.”

“Watch out, an' don't take any wooden nickels.” Abner cackled as the women continued on their way.

Delta's heart went out to the man who, like Granny Ketchum, had so little to live for. All they needed was someone to care, someone to take an interest in them. She didn't know what it was like to lose a leg, but she did know a little something about people passing her on the street without so much as a smile or a kind word.

***

At the Long Odds, Cooper stood with his legs spread and his rifle resting in the crook of his arm. It neared midnight but he'd yet to find his bed. He sighed. Probably wouldn't get a wink of sleep anyway. Thoughts of Delta Dandridge kept him awake more often than not. He couldn't seem to get her out of his head. At odd times he found himself wondering what it would be like to run his hands over her satiny skin, imagining what she would look like wearing nothing but a smile, with her hair all mussed.

She'd looked a sight sitting in the café, getting her dander up good and proper over Laurie's familiarity. He probably should've told her that he'd known Laurie for years and their flirting was nothing more than a game they played. But he'd been having way too much fun putting that high color in her cheeks.

It felt real nice knowing Delta suffered from jealousy. Almost as nice as kissing her.

Maybe he'd steal another kiss next time he got a chance.

Dragging his thoughts back to the task at hand, he made sure his rifle was loaded. It wasn't a time for dreaming.

He'd positioned all eight of his men across the east side of the ranch, the only way to get onto his land. That left one man to guard over five hundred yards in the pitch-black. They were stretched thin.

Still, he dared the raiders to come back. If they did, they'd have a wad of double-aught buckshot waiting for them.

The moon cast nothing but a thin ribbon of light over the valley. It was a good night for righting wrongs and evening scores.

A little while past midnight, he heard them.

Trouble rode at a full gallop. Pounding hooves struck the hard ground as they came closer and closer. When they rounded a stand of oak trees, he counted at least a dozen riders. Hell was coming straight at him. It would either swallow him up whole or, if he was lucky, he'd run it back into the bowels of the earth from where it came.

Cooper tightened his grip on the rifle and clenched his jaw. Only cowards rode at night. The black hoods they wore over their heads indicated these cowards were even more spineless and lily-livered. He could see nothing but round eye sockets where their eyes should be.

He let loose a volley of gunfire. But the raiders quickly formed a circle around him, making it difficult to hit a moving target. They returned his fire.

Horses screamed.

Men cursed.

Bullets flew.

The quiet night became a chaotic bedlam.

“Get the hell off my land,” he yelled.

Firing again, he hit two of them. Shouting curses, the hooded cowards retreated to a safe distance, where they watched.

Just then Cooper's men rode up and rained hell down as they emptied their rifles. Evidently seeing they wouldn't win on this particular night, the mysterious raiders lit out in the direction they came.

All except one.

That lone man whipped his horse around and galloped straight for Cooper. One of the ranch hands fired, striking the man's chest. The bullet seemed to hit metal and bounced off. That told Cooper the rider wore a piece of armor of some sort beneath his shirt.

A dozen more shots hit the armor.

Cooper took aim at the spot on the hood between the eye sockets, but a second before he squeezed the trigger, the rider's horse reared into the air.

As the animal landed back on its feet, another cowboy got luckier and put a piece of hot lead into the man's thigh.

Still he came. The attacker seemed to have a death wish.

Cooper braced himself, ready to leap out of the way if he needed to.

When the rider got within a few feet of Cooper, he suddenly whirled. As he did, the hood came off.

Staring into the raider's face, Cooper sucked in a quick breath.

What he saw was impossible. A ghost sneered down at him.

The ghost of the man he'd personally sent to hell.