“Briney!” Bethanne exclaimed. “What on earth happened?”
Again, a blush of humiliation that was entirely indiscernible because of her sunburn rose to Briney’s cheeks.
“You look like you’ve been baked to a crisp!” Mrs. Kelley unnecessarily noted.
“Seems Miss Thress is a real horsewoman,” Gunner said. “She found the horse she liked, rode out, and Charlie and I were thinkin’ we’d better saddle up and go lookin’ for her three hours later. But she come back on her own.”
“Three hours in the sun? Didn’t you have a hat with you, honey?” Mrs. Kelley asked. Her expression was that of deep concern.
“I did,” Briney admitted. She watched as Gunner hopped down from the buggy and made his way to her side of it. “But I wanted to feel the sun on my face, so I intentionally left it behind. It was careless of me, I know.”
Briney groaned as she stood up from the buggy seat. It seemed the idleness of sitting, even for the space of such a short distance as three miles, had caused her already strained and sore muscles to stiffen so badly she wasn’t sure she could step down from the buggy at all!
Having obviously accounted for the fact that the buggy ride would find Briney all the more miserable and sore, however, Gunner simply reached up, taking her waist between his strong hands, and lifted her down from the buggy.
“I’ve…I’ve also discovered the detriment of riding astride for three hours when one is not accustom to doing so,” Briney explained as Bethanne and Mrs. Kelley continued to stare at her, with mouths agape.
Briney watched as Bethanne and her mother exchanged worried glances for a moment. But she was entirely startled when, all at once, the two women burst into laughter.
“Oh, you poor dear thing!” Bethanne commiserated through her giggles. “I’m so sorry…and I know exactly how you feel.” She laughed a bit more and then added, “And I’m not laughin’ because of your misery, Briney—just because, as I said, I’ve done the same thing…more than once, in fact.”
“Oh, me too!” Mrs. Kelley added. “I don’t know what gets into a body sometimes, that we lose track of what circumstances might arise from gettin’ lost in the beauty of the day.” She turned to Bethanne and asked, “Remember last summer, when we had all that rain and the mosquitoes were so bad?”
“Mmm hmmm,” Bethanne affirmed, giggling as she nodded.
Mrs. Kelley looked back to Briney and explained, “Oh, it was a beautiful sunset one night, and I just couldn’t resist sittin’ out on the back porch to watch it. But when I woke up the next mornin’, I was covered in bites. I mean, covered! I was so miserable—for days, I was miserable—and so swollen with mosquito bites a body woulda thought I had one ghastly disease or another.”
“Mama looked like she’d been covered in pink polka dots, that’s for certain,” Bethanne said, smiling.
Mrs. Kelley stepped down from the front porch of the boardinghouse. “So you don’t worry a bit, Briney,” she said. “This isn’t anything that a warm bath and a bit of extra rest won’t take care of. Isn’t that right, Gunner?”
“That’s right, Mrs. Kelley,” Gunner agreed. Briney glanced up at Gunner, her stomach bursting with butterflies as he smiled and winked at her. He was so handsome! So capable, so strong, so the stuff of fantasy!
“You’ll be good as new soon enough, Miss Thress,” he said. “And then you and me can see to Sassafras’s official sale and change of ownership, all right?”
“All right,” Briney answered.
Gunner nodded and smiled at Briney. Then he looked to Mrs. Kelley, saying, “I was hopin’ you might have some peach pie just lyin’ around somewhere, Mrs. Kelley. I haven’t been able to think of anythin’ else all mornin’ long.”
Sylvia Kelley’s eyes widened with the delight of being flattered. “Of course I do, Gunner. You come on into the kitchen with me and sit down for a piece.” She looked to her daughter, adding, “Bethanne, why don’t you draw a tepid bath in the bathhouse for Briney? Let her have a good long soak to ease those weary muscles of hers, hmmm?”
“Of course, Mama,” Bethanne cheerfully agreed. “It’ll give me and Briney a chance to catch up.” Bethanne looked to Briney—who stood exactly where she’d been standing since the moment Gunner lifted her down from the buggy. “Because it seems you did, indeed, find a horse to your likin’, didn’t you?”
“Oh, I certainly did at that,” Briney said, smiling with joy in knowing Gunner had promised Sassafras to her. She could still imagine the way his hand had felt when he’d taken hers in shaking it in assurance that he would sell Sassafras to her and no one else. The memory caused goose pimples to race over her arms.
Standing there looking up at him, Briney was paralyzed in a state of awe. How could it be that the alluring man’s voice that had so comforted her over the past week or more belonged to the Horseman—the man who would fulfill her dreams of owning her own horse? How could it be that this same man was so uniquely handsome as well? How could it be that his simplest touch—or even the thought of his touch—could send her heart racing and turn her knees to syrup?
Oh, Briney well knew what Mrs. Fletcher would’ve said. A handsome face doesn’t signify a handsome heart, Briney Thress. I sometimes think that men are the most lustful, heartless, depraved of all God’s creatures. And even if they aren’t, they’re not to be trusted.
It was why Mrs. Fletcher never allowed Briney to dance more than once with the same partner at society gatherings—never allowed anyone to come courting her. Well, those were the reasons she professed as to why she kept young men at bay where Briney was concerned. Of course, Briney had almost always known it was because Mrs. Fletcher had hired her as a traveling companion and indentured servant for herself and did not want to risk Briney falling in love and wanting to leave her.
Still, Briney wondered if Gunner Cole might melt even the stone-cold heart of Enola Fletcher, if the old lady had lived on. For, from Briney’s experience, the Horseman was a man of outstanding character, as well as uncanny good looks.
Gunner touched the brim of his hat as he followed Mrs. Kelley into the boardinghouse by way of the restaurant door to his right. “Miss Thress,” he said with a nod. Then looking to Bethanne, he added, “Miss Kelley.”
Briney watched him go.
She heard Bethanne exhale a heavy sigh and looked to her to see that Bethanne was watching Gunner leave as well.
“My, my, my,” Bethanne breathed. “That man is sure somethin’ to look at, isn’t he?”
Briney smiled, amused to find that she wasn’t the only young woman in town to think Gunner Cole was attractive.
“He’s a tall drink of water, that’s for certain,” Bethanne added, smiling at Briney.
“A tall drink of water?” Briney asked, for she didn’t quite understand the comparison.
Bethanne giggled. “Yeah…a tall drink of water,” she began to explain. “It means that Gunner Cole is so good lookin’ that lookin’ at him gives you a thrill…like drinkin’ a tall glass of water on a hot summer’s day.”
“Oh, I see,” Briney giggled. “Well, he certainly is one then…a tall drink of water, I mean.”
“Indeed,” Bethanne said, “though, if you want to know a secret, Briney…I’m sweet on one of his stablemen. Mr. Plummer.”
Instantly Briney’s smile broadened. “Charlie? I met him just today! Oh, he is a kind and handsome man indeed…and very polite.”
“Yep, that’s Charlie,” Bethanne affirmed. “Oh, he just sets my heart to racin’ like a startled bird’s!” Bethanne tossed her head then—as if she felt she’d revealed something too personal. “But that’s neither here nor there. Let’s get you out to the bathhouse so you can start soakin’. And Mama grows a plant out by the back porch that will soothe your sunburn a bit.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful,” Briney admitted. But when she started to take a step forward, the sore, stiff muscles in her legs and derrière violently protested. She gasped and stopped cold.
“Unfortunately, the best remedy is to kind of walk around a bit, Briney,” Bethanne said, a sympathetic frown furrowing her lovely brows. “A soak will help and then maybe some rest too.”
“Very well,” Briney said as she started forward again. As she limped up the stairs as Bethanne held one of her arms to assist her, Briney whispered, “I guess I should be glad that Mr. Cole isn’t still here to witness this, shouldn’t I?”
Bethanne giggled, “You should be very glad. You look like a crooked old lady.”
Briney giggled as well, again grateful that Gunner Cole had disappeared into the restaurant before he’d had another glimpse of her in such a ridiculously weakened state.
“Poor little thing,” Gunner muttered under his breath as he watched Bethanne Kelley help Briney into the boardinghouse. “It’ll take her a week to recover.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Sylvia Kelley encouraged as she set a plate of peach pie slathered in cream on the table at which he sat. Mrs. Kelley’s gaze followed Gunner’s out the restaurant window as the two young women disappeared through the front door of the adjoining boardinghouse. “Briney has surprised me,” she said. “When she and Mrs. Fletcher arrived, I thought sure the girl had no mind or will of her own. But it was soon clear that she did; she’d just never been allowed to freely use them. But since that old biddy died,” Sylvia nodded, “well, Miss Briney has really begun to come into her own.” She looked at Gunner where he sat at the small table. “Like goin’ all the way out to see you today to buy a horse; that took a great deal of courage and determination.”
“Indeed it did,” Gunner agreed. He smiled and, lowering his voice, said, “You shoulda seen her when she first come ridin’ back in after that three hours. I swear, I couldn’t determine the difference between the horse’s mane and the girl’s.”
He chuckled when Mrs. Kelley laughed.
“And that tender, fried skin on her face—it’s gonna peel right off…oh, and be sore tomorrow mornin’!” Sylvia whispered. “But it seems she enjoyed it.”
“Oh, she did. She did indeed. And so did Sassafras,” Gunner offered.
Sylvia frowned, looking at him in astonishment. “You sold your mama’s horse to Briney?”
“Mmm hmm,” Gunner confirmed as he chewed a delicious piece of cream-slathered peach pie. “Sassy chose Briney the very instant Briney chose her,” he explained. “I never thought I’d see the day that Sassy would quit lookin’ for Mama to come walkin’ into the stables. But today…well, when I walked in and saw the way Sassy was cuddlin’ up to Briney, I knew that horse was finally ready for a new rider.”
Sylvia shook her head in admiration. “You never cease to amaze me, Gunner Cole,” she said. “You and horses…it’s like you can read their minds or somethin’.”
Gunner shrugged. “Naw,” he said. “I just pay attention is all.” He smiled at Sylvia, explaining, “You pay attention to people, and I pay attention to horses.” His smile broadened as he added, “Although I never met a horse that can bake a pie the way you can, Mrs. Kelley.”
Sylvia blushed, and Gunner was glad that he’d pleased her with his compliment.
“Oh, now don’t you be goin’ on like that, Gunner Cole,” she said, still blushing. “I already promised I’d give you another piece to take home with you…one for Charlie too. No need to soften me up with flatterin’.” She patted him affectionately on one shoulder and said, “Now you enjoy your pie. I’m gonna help Bethanne draw a bath for Briney. I’ll be back in a minute or two.”
“Sure thing,” Gunner said.
Once Mrs. Kelley was gone, Gunner exhaled a heavy sigh of pleasure—for her peach pie and cream were simply the stuff of heaven. In truth, one reason he liked Mrs. Kelley’s pies so much—any of her cooking, in fact—was that it reminded him of his Grandmother Cole’s—his grandmother whom he loved more than anyone beyond his own mother and father—his grandmother who had once been a madam in a brothel before she ran away to marry his grandfather. Yep, Gunner’s Grandma Cole had been the kindest, most nurturing grandma a boy could ever have had. It was one reason he didn’t judge folks by their roots or their pasts. His grandma had changed her life entirely—not the loving, nurturing ways she’d been born with but rather her circumstances and life of sin. And though there were a lot of folks that professed to be Christians—good, God-fearing people that preached repentance and forgiveness—Gunner’s Grandma Cole had found that most never forgave others, only themselves.
Yet she’d been a happy, righteous woman for all the days Gunner had known her. Gunner’s Grandma Cole had never scolded him for anything—not even when he tossed a ball in her kitchen, breaking her bone china teapot. She just enveloped him in her warm, soft arms, dabbed his tears of sorrow away with her apron, kissed him on the head, and explained that the teapot was just a thing—an object—and that no teapot would ever be more important to her than making sure her grandchildren knew she loved and cherished them.
Nope, Gunner had never known anyone as kindhearted and as willing to do for others as his grandma had been, and he missed her. He’d missed her every day of the past ten years since she’d passed on.
As he scraped the last bit of peach pie and cream from his plate, he thought to himself that even he was a bit surprised that he’d told Briney Thress the story of his grandma’s past. In truth, it was the sort of story that would cause most women to faint of shock, right there on the spot. But Briney hadn’t. Her eyes had widened a bit, but that was all of it.
Maybe it was because, as an orphan, she’d known unkindness in her own life. Or maybe Briney just wasn’t the sort of person to judge. But whatever the reason, Gunner still wondered why he’d told her about his grandmother at all. He thought it was to put her at ease about her being an orphan. But in his gut, he felt maybe it was more than that. Truth was, he’d been as instantly drawn to Briney as Sassafras had been—more so, in fact. Maybe the reason he’d mentioned his own family background was simply to see exactly what Briney’s reaction would be—to see whether she would find a man who was the grandson of a once-harlot repulsive or not.
Gunner smiled and mumbled to himself, “Or not.” Briney was as easy to read as any horse Gunner had ever met—he found most people were—and she hadn’t been disgusted by him or his grandmother.
He wondered whether she were feeling any better, if Bethanne had managed to draw a warm bath for Briney, and if she were already soaking the soreness of her muscles. He hoped so, for he wanted her to heal quickly so that she could return to the stables to spend time with Sassy.
Gunner chuckled as a vision of Briney riding up on Sassy came to his mind—hair a wild mess of a mane, face as red as a summer beet, and looking as if she’d never been happier. There was a certain rare and wonderful beauty in a woman who could enjoy a ride so much that she abandoned any care for her appearance. In fact, in all his life, he’d only known two other women with that quality—the ability to toss inhibition to the wind and savor life no matter what others thought. One was his mother, and the other was his Grandma Cole.
*
“And when I think of the manner in which I just tossed all propriety to the wind, Bethanne,” Briney said, slapping one hand to her forehead in consternation. “I mean…I rode off with my skirt and petticoats clear up to my knees! What he must think of me!”
But Bethanne only giggled. “I think the Horseman was quite impressed with you, Briney,” she said. “I mean, look at it the way he must’ve—a very proper lady arrives at his stables dressed in her very proper attire.” Bethanne paused as she struggled to comb a knot from Briney’s long, very tangled hair. “And what does this proper lady do? Does she wilt like a spring violet in the summer sun? No! She finds a horse fitted to her and rides off confidently, careless of pride and prissiness…rides off to a three-hour adventure all on her own.”
“Do you really think so?” Briney asked.
“Of course!” Bethanne struggled with another tangle of hair and then said, “I’ve known Gunner Cole for near to five years now, and I’ve never seen him display such obvious admiration toward a woman as he did you today.” Bethanne smiled coyly. “And the way he lifted you from his buggy…as if you weighed no more than a butterfly.”
Briney smiled, warmed all over by the memory. “And yet I was too miserable to really enjoy the moment.” She glanced at the mirror in front of her where she sat at the small, simple vanity table. “I look like…I look like…”
“Folks around here would say you looked just like somethin’ the cat dragged in,” Bethanne finished for her.
Briney’s smile faded. “I do! Oh, I do look just like a drowned rat! In truth, a somewhat roasted drowned rat.”
“Oh, you do not!” Bethanne giggled. She smiled at Briney in their reflection in the mirror from her place behind Briney. “You’re as lovely as ever you were. Just a little more pink.”
Briney laughed, and Bethanne joined her.
Running the comb through Briney’s hair one last time then, Bethanne said, “There now. It’s all untangled, so let’s braid it loosely and put you in bed for a nap. I’ll wake you in time for supper. In fact, why don’t I just bring supper up to you tonight? That way, you don’t even have to dress for the day again if you don’t want to.”
“Oh, that would be so kind of you, Bethanne!” Briney admitted with a sigh. “I feel so tired and sore, and…my face feels like leather.” Briney touched the hot, sensitive skin of her cheek, wincing—for it was truly painful to the touch.
“It will get better quickly,” Bethanne assured her. “I’ll bring some more of Mama’s aloe vera plant up for you. It really does work miracles on soothing sunburned skin.”
“Thank you, Bethanne,” Briney said, capturing one of Bethanne’s hands as she finished braiding Briney’s hair. Turning to face her, she added, “You have been so kind to me. Your entire family has! And though it sounds rather morbid, I suppose…I am so glad that, if Mrs. Fletcher had to pass away and leave me all alone, I’m thankful she left me here in Oakmont with you.”
Bethanne leaned forward, throwing her arms around her new friend’s neck and kissing her cheek. She was glad Mrs. Fletcher had died and left Briney there with the Kelley family too! For one thing, Bethanne had never had a close friend. Already she felt more akin to Briney than she had to any of the other girls of her age and acquaintance.
There was something deep about Briney; that’s the only word Bethanne could think to describe what she felt when it came to Briney’s character and heart. Briney had traveled the world, to places Bethanne could never imagine traveling to. Briney owned the beautiful, dazzling wardrobe of a wealthy debutante. Yet Briney didn’t want to travel—possibly she’d never wanted to. All she’d ever longed for was a home and family. Furthermore, it was obvious Briney was more suited to the less stringent fashions of the American West than the fancy, frilly clothes Mrs. Fletcher had dressed her in. Otherwise, Briney wouldn’t have ridden off on her own—skirt and petticoats up to her knees and careless of it for the joy of riding astride, and for three hours.
As much as Bethanne enjoyed riding her family’s horses, the very idea of a three-hour ride struck her as being the stuff of boredom. So she figured Briney Thress had a tendency toward needing to feel free somehow—a feeling Bethanne didn’t understand, for she’d always been free.
Yes, Briney Thress was deep to Bethanne’s way of thinking—the kind of deep Bethanne had always heard her father use when talking of Gunner Cole. Furthermore, judging from the way Briney had unconsciously babbled on and on and on about Gunner the whole of the time Bethanne was combing her hair after her long, soaking bath, Bethanne’s romantic heart had the sudden notion that perhaps the two very deep people in Oakmont might well be meant for one another.
Briney tried to keep the tears brimming in her eyes from spilling over. She’d never, ever had a true friend—not in all her life while living in the orphanage and certainly not in all her life in being the ward of Mrs. Fletcher. Yet the whole of her soul knew she’d found an everlasting friend in Bethanne Kelley—a true and loyal friend—and the sudden knowledge struck heart her with incredible force.
“Thank you, Bethanne,” Briney said. “Thank you for…for everything…but most of all for being my friend.”
“Oh no! You’re not cryin’, are you, Briney?” Bethanne said, holding Briney away from her and using the hem of her apron to gently dab at the tears in the corners of her own eyes. “Your face is already red enough, don’t you think?”
Briney giggled, “I suppose so.”
Sniffling, Bethanne stood up from the chair she’d been sitting in to comb Briney’s hair. Taking Briney’s hand, she said, “Now you just lie down a bit and rest. You’ll still be a bit sore and stiff when you wake up, but you’ll feel better by the minute, all right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Briney teased.
“I’ll bring supper up at six,” Bethanne promised.
“And if there’s any of your mother’s peach pie left…” Briney hinted.
“Then I’ll bring that too, of course,” Bethanne giggled.
“I really am sorry to be such a bother, Bethanne,” Briney began.
“You are no bother, Briney Thress,” Bethanne assured her. “Now get yourself some rest. I’ll be up at six o’clock sharp.”
“Thank you,” Briney said.
“You’re welcome,” Bethanne said as she left the room, closing the door behind her.
Raising herself from the chair she’d been sitting in, Briney winced as her sore muscles made themselves well known once more.
“What in all the world was I thinking?” she muttered to herself as she hobbled toward her bed. “Riding for three hours when I’d never ridden astride before?”
Yet when Briney was resting comfortably on her bed a minute or two later, she sighed with satisfaction. As she closed her eyes, all that met her were visions of the beauty of the day—the feel of the warm sun on her face and the cool breeze through her hair, the scent of wild grasses mingled with saddle leather, and the rhythm of Sassafras’s gait. It had literally been a dream come true for Briney—to ride out astride into pastures and hills where no one else was near.
And then—then there were the visions of the Horseman, Gunner Cole. As beautiful as her ride with Sassafras had been, not even the green vistas that met them had been as handsome and awe-inspiring as the blue of the man’s eyes when he looked at her. All the warm sun on her face and wind in her hair hadn’t felt as thrilling as the simple handshake she’d shared with him on the buggy ride home.
Squirming a bit until she felt as comfortable as possible, Briney lingered in memories of her first free-spirited ride, and of the man who had afforded it to her. She hoped her body would heal quickly—for as heavy as her longing to ride Sassafras again was, her yearning to again be in the presence of Gunner Cole was purely insatiable.
*
“Mmm!” Briney sighed with satisfaction as she swallowed another bite of cream-slathered peach pie. “Your mother’s pies really are heavenly, Bethanne. Ambrosia for the soul.”
“Oh, and don’t I know it,” Bethanne agreed, smiling. “My own pies are comin’ along, but I can’t get my crusts to be as soft and flakey as Mama’s…no matter how hard I try.”
Briney shrugged. “It’s probably just because she’s had so many more years of practice,” she offered.
“Probably so,” Bethanne agreed. She paused a moment, and a mischievous grin spread across her face. “Gunner Cole was just in at the restaurant for supper, and he asked Mama if he could buy a whole pie to take home with him. Seems he promised Charlie Plummer a piece and figured he might as well take a whole pie.”
“He’s downstairs in the restaurant? This very moment?” Briney asked as her heart began to race. She wondered if he would linger outside on the boardwalk under her bedroom window before heading home—converse with one or two of the other men in town the way he sometimes did.
Bethanne laughed. “Yes! But settle down or you’ll pop your bloomer buttons! I do think your face just turned three shades darker of pink when I mentioned his name.”
“Did I?” Briney said, putting her hands to her warm cheeks. “Is it that obvious that I find him…intriguing?”
Bethanne laughed. “Of course it is! At least, to me it is. But don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”
Briney sighed with joy and relief. “Just as your secret is safe with me.”
Bethanne frowned, curious. “My secret?”
“Oh, I see you’ve already forgotten that you told me earlier today that Mr. Charlie Plummer sets your heart to racing the way Mr. Cole does mine, hmm?” Briney explained.
“Oh, I did! I had quite forgotten that I’d let that slip,” Bethanne said, blushing.
Briney reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Bethanne’s arm. “But it’s all right…because neither one of us will tell anyone else each other’s secret.”
“That’s true,” Bethanne agreed. “Now, you just finish up that pie. I’ll come get the dish and fork in the mornin’. You need your rest.”
“I’ve been resting all afternoon, Bethanne,” Briney reminded. Yet as she shifted her position in her chair, she knew her muscles would complain if she didn’t just rest through the evening.
Bethanne smiled with understanding. “It’s pretty miserable, isn’t it? But you’ll feel somewhat better in the mornin’. Once you’re up and moving around, the stiffness won’t be so bad.”
“What an imbecile I was today,” Briney grumbled. “Riding out like that for so long…and never having ridden astride before.”
“Oh, don’t worry so much about it, Briney,” Bethanne encouraged. “The past is the past, and everybody does silly things once in a while. I’m just glad you didn’t get lost or somethin’.”
“I don’t think I could’ve if I’d wanted to,” Briney said. “I think Mr. Cole’s horse would’ve known her way home from anywhere.”
“I still can’t believe he’s agreed to sell Sassafras to you,” Bethanne mused aloud. “Everyone thought he’d never sell his mama’s horse. It’s a miracle.”
Briney smiled as she thought of the sweet horse waiting back at the Horseman’s stables. “She just seemed to take to me the moment we met…and me to her,” she explained. “It was rather strange, even to me…that she somehow chose me just as I chose her. Strange.”
“Well, whatever it is, Gunner Cole must’ve seen it too. His mother loved that horse, and when she passed away, he wouldn’t sell it to anyone who asked…no one. Of course, maybe two years makes a difference. Maybe Gunner has mourned as much as he needed and can let the horse go now.”
As Briney considered Bethanne’s reasoning, once more she wondered if she had mourned sufficiently over Mrs. Fletcher’s passing. Oh, certainly she had shed tears and experienced a measure of loneliness of sorts. But the truth was, she didn’t really miss Mrs. Fletcher, and she surely didn’t miss being told what to do every minute of her life.
“Do you…do you think there’s something wrong with me, Bethanne?” Briney asked.
“What?” Bethanne asked in return. “Whatever could be wrong with you?”
Briney shrugged. “Well, I still feel as if I should be more mournful over Mrs. Fletcher’s passing. But I’m more relieved than anything…and continue to wonder if I’m just too heartless.”
Bethanne exhaled a heavy sigh. “Well, your situation with Mrs. Fletcher wasn’t one that anybody would miss. And maybe it’s not even that. After all, you had to pull yourself up by your bootstraps and forge your way ahead in your own life.”
Briney nodded. “I know. I just keep experiencing these flashes of guilt at not feeling worse about her death.”
“Briney!” Bethanne sighed with exasperation. “She was as old as Methuselah, for pity’s sake! She’d lived longer than most folks, and you took good care of her for the last ten years of her life! Don’t beat yourself so. You mourned plenty and in your own way. Move on. Ride your horse, eat your peach pie, and sleep when you want to! That’s my advice, anyhow.”
Briney’s spirits were lifted once more, and she nodded. “You’re right…you’re right. Her death wasn’t my fault, and she was unfairly strict with me. She didn’t beat me, but she didn’t treat me well at all. So I suppose it’s natural that I should feel some relief at her passing. I just had to be conscious of it is all. It does make me feel—”
“Enough,” Bethanne interrupted. “You’re beatin’ a dead horse, and you need to stop. You’ve had a very tirin’ day, and days like these tend to wear out a mind as well as a body. You need some rest and to let that sunburn heal a bit. You’ll feel better in the mornin’.” Bethanne’s eyebrows arched with a rather daring appearance. “And when you’re ready to ride out to the Horseman’s stables to officially purchase your horse, perhaps I’ll accompany you this time…just to give my regards to Charlie Plummer, you understand.”
And with that, Briney nodded, and her mood brightened. Bethanne was right, and Briney knew that she’d resolved the matter two or three times already. It was time to move on and, as Bethanne said, quit beating a dead horse (although Briney thought the term rather morbid).
“You’re right, Bethanne. You’re right. And yes! You should come with me when I return to purchase Sassafras. That would be wonderful!” she exclaimed. “And if seeing Mr. Cole again wasn’t already motivation enough for me to heal quickly—which it is—seeing you with Charlie will be!”
Both young women laughed together a moment or two before Bethanne took her leave of Briney’s room. Once she’d gone, Briney sighed and finished her peach pie. Oh, it was good—in that moment, better than anything Briney had ever tasted!
And when she’d dared to actually lick the last of the cream from her plate (thinking how abhorred Mrs. Fletcher would be at such an action), Briney laid back down on her bed and waited—waited in hopes that when Gunner Cole left the Kelleys’ restaurant downstairs, he would pause to say something—anything—so that she could drift to sleep with the sound of his deep, comforting voice humming in her ears.
Briney’s heart leapt when, only a few minutes later, she heard him; she heard Gunner speaking to someone below her bedroom window. She sat up in her bed so that she could hear more clearly.
“Yep,” Gunner said to someone, “I never thought I’d see the day either, but you shoulda seen that horse take to Briney Thress. A body woulda thought they’d known each other all their lives.”
“But ain’t you gonna miss that horse, Gunner?” Briney heard Mr. Kelley’s familiar voice ask.
“Well, Miss Thress has agreed to stable Sassy with me, so I’ll still have her right there,” Gunner replied.
“It sounds like a good deal then, Gunner,” Mr. Kelley said. “And I think your mama would be happy to know ol’ Sassy’s got a new friend. I’ll tell you what, Sylvia and me, and Bethanne too of course, we really like Briney. There’s somethin’…well, somethin’ kind of unique and special about her. She’s a fine young woman. Pretty too.”
Gunner chuckled. “Yes, she is,” he agreed.
Briney bit her lip with delight at hearing Gunner agree to her being either a fine young woman or pretty too. Her heart was hammering inside her bosom so hard she was sure the whole world could hear it.
“I hear you brought in a whole bunch of new stock,” Mr. Kelley began. “Wild horses?”
“Yep,” Gunner affirmed. “Mustangs. We rounded up last week, drove to my corrals, and we’ve been breaking horses every day since. My hind end is gonna be numb by the time we’re finished. But I got the US Cavalry comin’ through expecting to buy horses next month, so we’ve gotta get ‘em ready to sell.”
“Ooo wee!” Mr. Kelley exclaimed in admiration. “You sure don’t let the grass grow under your feet, Gunner.”
“I try not to, Walter. I try not to,” Gunner responded.
“And I’m guessin’ that pie is for your boys?” Walter chuckled.
Gunner chuckled too. “I figure it’s the least I can do after a hard day’s work—treat them to a piece of Mrs. Kelley’s peach pie.”
Briney listened as Gunner and Mr. Kelley conversed about simple things for the next few minutes. As ever it was, the sound of Gunner’s voice was intoxicating to her senses, and soon she felt herself begin to drift off to sleep.
The last thing she remembered that night was the sound of Gunner telling Mr. Kelley to “have a nice evenin’.”
*
Gunner exhaled a heavy sigh as he drove back toward the ranch. No doubt Charlie would be waiting with his tongue hanging out like a hungry dog in anticipation of Mrs. Kelley’s peach pie Gunner had promised to bring him.
Gunner sighed again, thinking how much nicer the drive into town had been than the drive home. He’d been surprised to find himself driving the horse a bit slower than necessary when he and Briney were heading into town after her ride. In fact, it had taken him a moment to consciously understand that he was intentionally stretching the ride out so that he could linger in Briney’s company for as long as possible.
After all, Mr. Kelley had been right: Briney Thress was pretty—very, very pretty. Furthermore, Gunner admired the way she’d just hopped on Sassy and ridden off for three hours without a care to anything else. It spoke of an adventurous spirit—of a strength and independence he immediately admired.
Laughing out loud, he thought of the expression on her face he’d managed to witness when she’d first seen her reflection in the mirror hung on the outer wall of the outhouse. Poor little thing had been mortified! But to Gunner’s way of thinking, she’d looked all the more beautiful when she’d arrived back at the ranch with her hair a mane-tangle, her face as pink as watermelon meat, and her skirt pushed up clean above her knees.
Yep. Gunner figured Briney Thress was the kind of woman who could enjoy life, really enjoy it—ride out on a horse and not worry about whether her hair were perfectly coifed when she returned. As he continued thinking of Briney, an airy, breathless feeling rose in his chest for a moment—a feeling of admiration and intrigue—a feeling of wanting to turn his horse and buggy around, march into the boardinghouse, and demand to see Briney Thress again so that he could merely linger in her presence, gaze into her pretty sunburned face, and memorize every inch of it.
Of course, he couldn’t return to the boardinghouse and demand to see Briney. Still, at the thought of the way she looked when she returned from her ride, his smile broadened again as he mumbled, “Poor little thing.”