Groggy, Petra slowly came awake. It took her a moment or two to remember where she was: at Doreen’s, not at the hot spring, not at the sheriff’s house. She and Matt and Doreen had moved back in after the trial yesterday, making May Bollo a very happy woman, Petra felt certain.
Turning on her side, she expected to see Gabriel asleep in his cradle next to the bed. It sat empty. Looking behind her, Matt was gone too. Searching for the dressing gown Doreen had loaned her, Petra threw the covers back and hoisted herself out of bed, her body heavy with fatigue, shoulders aching and neck stiff. The bedroom door opened and Doreen glided in, looking well-rested and full of vitality, balancing a tray bearing a cup of tea and two muffins.
“Good morning. I bet you’re tired today. But you’re looking better than you did last night. You didn’t eat much. Matt thought you might be coming down with something, what with all the stress you’ve been under.”
Her hands fumbling with the ribbon to tie her robe, Petra asked, “Gabriel?”
Doreen set the tray down on the nightstand beside the bed, then straightened, her hands going to her hips. “Is bright as a button, playing on the floor in the parlor. He’s corralled with cushions from the sofa and chairs.”
Huffing, fumbling, all thumbs, Petra managed to tie a bow in the ribbon at her waist. She’d forgotten how complicated women’s clothing could be. She rather missed her simple blanket skirt and Matt’s flannel shirt. “Matt?”
Doreen gave her an indulgent smile. “He left early.”
Legs folding up like pickup sticks, Petra collapsed on the bed and put her hands to her face. He was gone. Last night then, was farewell. The kisses, long and deep, his touch so tender, all of it was goodbye. “Gone? He’s gone back to the hot springs?”
Doreen shook her head and held out the cup of tea. “You better have some tea. Buck said he had some things to take care of…some business, he said. He’s still in town.”
Disbelieving, Petra gave herself a little shake. “What business? When did he leave?”
Pushing off the bed, she came to her feet, took a sip of hot tea, closed her eyes, then breathing deeply, steadied her rocky emotions. “Lately, he’s never around when I need him. Where does he go, and why?”
Doreen laughed at her. “Men always have business. He woke up when Gabriel started to squeak. He said he wanted to let you sleep. I’ve never seen a man so natural with a baby before. I found him in my kitchen, with Gabriel cradled in the crook of his arm. He had cooked some mush. He thinned it down with some of my goat’s milk. The goat’s milk I use for my complexion, mind—and have to buy special. Anyway, he made this stuff and he cooled it down, blowing on it, testing it on the back of his wrist like a fussy old grandma. I thought I was seeing things. I watched him spoon that sloppy stuff into the kid, getting it all over himself, all over Gabriel, and both of them having the best time. Honey, what did you do to that man? I have to know. The Buck Hoyt I know and love is a grumpy old bear, testy, hairy and unsociable.
“After he fed the baby, he had me put the cushions down on the floor and said he was going out on business and he’d try to be back by noon. He told me to let you sleep as long as I could, and mind the baby. Mind the baby, that’s what he said.”
Petra picked up the tray and started for the kitchen, Doreen following close on her heels. “What time is it?”
“Almost ten o’clock. I didn’t want to wake you, but Gabriel is getting kind of fussy. I think he’s muddied his drawers. Probably the stuff Buck made him eat—poor thing. I’m not very good at changing muddy diapers. I’ll do wet ones, but muddy…yuck.”
Setting the tray down on the kitchen table and going to the mound of cushions in the middle of the parlor floor, Petra spoke over her shoulder, “You should’ve woke me sooner. I can’t believe how late it is. Mush and goat’s milk, of all things.”
Getting down on their hands and knees, the ladies peered over the edge of the barricade. Gabriel appeared happy as a lark, on his back, playing with his toes, blowing bubbles and reeking of poo.
Crawling over the cushions, Petra set to work changing Gabriel’s messy diaper. After she’d rinsed it out, washed it and hung it up to dry, she sat down on the floor to nurse him, her legs folded Indian style.
Doreen joined her after she reheated the tea and retrieved the muffins. Petra could feel Doreen’s eyes on her, studying her. The woman had questions.
“What made you think Buck had gone back to the hot springs?”
Pressing her lips together, Petra fought for a tone of indifference. “I would imagine he’s anxious to get back to his livestock. It is his home, after all.”
“Hmmm.” Doreen narrowed her eyes and tilted her head, clearly not fooled. “Yes, but you have to know he wouldn’t leave without you. Without you and Gabriel.”
No, she didn’t know it. She didn’t know it at all. “Oh, I won’t be going back to the hot springs.” Petra hoped she didn’t sound as hurt and lost as she felt. “I couldn’t go back there.” Keeping her tears at bay proved a struggle. With her eyes down to Gabriel’s sweet, fuzzy little head, she hoped Doreen wouldn’t make her explain.
Doreen sat back, leaning against the sofa. “Ah, so it’s like that,” was all she said. “How would you feel if I told you Buck says he’s not gonna need me, or any of the other girls, come spring?”
The blood rushed up to set her cheeks on fire. Unable to meet Doreen’s eyes, Petra played with Gabriel’s fingers. “Is that what he told you?” Through her eyelashes, she saw Doreen confirm the question with a nod.
Enraged, Petra wanted to know how it was that Matt told Doreen his plans and not her. “Why didn’t he tell me?”
Unable to answer, Doreen shrugged her shoulders. “He will. I’m sure of it.”
Lifting Gabriel to her shoulder to burp him, Petra tamped down her ire. “Oh, I don’t think so. He’s been keeping to himself here in town. He’s been distant, only coming to my bed at night. He hardly talks to me at all. He certainly hasn’t shared his thoughts with me. He’s been down at the saloon a lot, too.”
With a wave of her hand, Doreen dismissed her uncertainty. “Buck’s not a drinkin’ man, honey. He was down at the saloon trying to get some idea of what’s been going on in this town. It galled him I didn’t know who he was at first, and I guess the sheriff didn’t either, so Buck decided he could do a little reconnaissance if no one recognized him. I suspect he stayed clear of you because everybody knew Buck Hoyt had brought you to town. The Buck Hoyt they knew, the hairy, prickly one, that is, not the damn good-lookin’ piece of meat you uncovered. He was trying to keep you safe, honey. Everything he’s done, he’s done for you and Gabriel. The man is head over heels in love with you.”
“Oh, how I want to believe you, Doreen. But he hasn’t said the words. But then I haven’t either. I’m afraid to.” She knew where the problem lay, the real barrier; it was his business. No, she couldn’t raise Gabriel there. “I don’t know. I’m very confused.”
Doreen reached over and laid her hand on her arm. “Look, if you want him, don’t give up. I had a good thing once, and I let it slip away. I could’ve had it all, the nice house, the babies, and a man who really loved me. A man who would’ve done anything for me, but I didn’t think I was good enough for him. I thought I’d make him miserable. Now, I’ll never know. I let my chance slip right through my fingers.”
Gabriel, asleep in her arms, burped when she laid him down on the floor. Doreen handed her a flannel blanket to put over him. They sat and watched his little face, his lips moving, his little fingers twitching. Finally, able to look Doreen in the eye, Petra said, “I won’t give up if you won’t. I’d like to think we get more than one chance.”
With tears filling her eyes, Doreen sighed. “Yeah, well maybe, but we were talking about you. I’m betting Buck isn’t going anywhere unless you’re with him.”
With Gabriel asleep, Petra decided to ask a favor of Doreen. “I would like to send a telegram to my Aunt Jean in Missoula. Would you mind staying here with Gabriel? He’ll probably sleep for at least an hour, maybe more.”
Getting to her feet, Doreen reached out a hand to help her up. “You go and take your time. While you’re out, go to the emporium and buy yourself some clothes, woman. Get Gabriel some nice things, too. He’s growing, he needs some clothes. Buck gave me money, said I was to give it to you so you could go shopping.”
»»•««
Petra made her way to the telegraph office, encountering hostile looks and outright snubs from the citizens of Baker City, she made up her mind. The best place she could go, the place where she knew she would be welcome, was home to Missoula and her Aunt Jean. Matt was making his plans, leaving her behind. The time had come for her to set some plans of her own into motion. The telegram was brief, a message of assurance and a promise to write a long letter as soon as possible.
She made the bank her next destination. Passed from one teller to the next, and finally seated before a large desk in the corner, Petra closed out her account, surprised the Laski brothers hadn’t figured out a way to get to it. She now had one hundred thirty-five dollars and fifty cents in her pocket, plus the twenty dollars Doreen had given her.
She hoped it would be enough to purchase a few necessary items of clothing and see her and Gabriel home safely. The next step, she intended to purchase a ticket for the stage. As soon as she knew for certain Kurt Laski had passed on to his just reward, she could move on with her life without fear. That would mean she could depart as soon as tomorrow, if there was a stage.
With an audience outside on the boardwalk and inside the ticket office, Petra, with her head high and shoulders back, stepped up to the counter and inquired, “I would like to buy passage on the stage going to Spokane.”
The clerk looked past her to the onlookers crowded around his door, then, impatient with her obvious stupidity, he said, “The north-bound stage stops in Lewiston, Pullman, and a couple more places before it reaches Spokane. You’ll have to buy your passage as you go along, lady. Sometimes there isn’t a stage, sometimes there is, depends on the weather and God knows what.”
Shifting, feeling all eyes on her, Petra began to sweat, her stomach churning. “I see. Perhaps I should ask when is the next north-bound stage expected here in Baker City?”
She heard the snickers and whispers behind her, but refused to acknowledge the source. The agent took his sweet time to answer, spitting a wad of tobacco into the spittoon to the side of the desk, spattering her moccasin boots, leaving dark little dots on the toe of the leather. “Well, there should be one in today around sundown. But it don’t leave until sun-up tomorrow. That’d give you one more night in town.”
He winked at her.
My God.
Red in the face, flustered, and wishing she had never come in here, Petra held her ground. “No, I won’t be ready to leave at sun-up. Will there be another tomorrow afternoon, or the next morning?”
Behind her, the snickers turned to outright laughter when the clerk said, “No, I guess you wouldn’t want to leave before the hangin’. I ain’t surprised. Should’a guessed you wouldn’t want to leave town before you knew for sure Laski’s good and dead. I’d feel the same way. Pretty good show you put on yesterday. Can’t blame you for wanting to get out of town as fast as you can. But after a couple more nights, you might not be in such a hurry. You might find you could make a good livin’ right here.”
“Hey.” The shout over her shoulder sent Petra’s heart into her throat. Matt reached out with his big hand, grabbed the little clerk by the front of his shirt and pulled him bodily over the counter. “The lady doesn’t need anything from you, especially your opinion.”
Releasing the man with a little shove, Matt turned on the crowd. “Maybe you folks need to take a little hike across country in the snow with no shoes, no water, no food. Maybe, if you live to tell about it, you’ll learn some manners.”
Taking her by the arm, Petra had no choice but to exit the office under Matt’s steam. The crowd dispersed, but not far; they stayed well within range, their ears and eyes wide open, drinking in the display.
Matt, impervious to the crowd, giving the impression they were the only two people on the street, towered over her, angry and using too big a voice for discretion. “Where the hell did you think you were going?”
Removing his fingers from her arm, Petra struggled to maintain her dignity. “I’m going home.” She turned back to reenter the ticketing office. “I’m going home to Missoula.”
Jerking her back around, Matt corrected her. “You don’t need a stage ticket for that. I’ll take you home. We’ll go home, then…then when the weather is better, you, Gabriel and I will go to Missoula, together. I’ll take you.”
She didn’t care for his empirical attitude, she didn’t care for it at all, no matter it sent her heart to racing with newfound hope. “I don’t think so, Mr. Buxton. The only real home I have is in Missoula. If you’re implying your home is my home, you’re wrong. I can’t live there. I’ve told you why.”
Scanning the faces of those clustered about them, listening, watching, Petra felt exposed—still on trial—it was humiliating. And she thought Matt an obtuse moron if he thought she would stand here and allow him to bully her in public. Moving closer to him, she lowered her voice.
“It would be nice to be asked, Mathias Buxton, not ordered about like…like a child. People are staring.” For emphasis, she stomped her foot.
When she looked up, he grinned down at her, his eyes twinkling—she found that infuriating.
“Let’em gawk. I don’t give a damn about any of these fools. If they don’t have anything better to do than poke their noses into other people’s business, I don’t want to know’em. I don’t want to have anything to do with’em.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Damn, she felt the tears begin to well up in her eyes and she knew she would make a fool of herself right here, right here on the street with everyone watching.
Holding up his hands as if she’d pulled a gun on him, Matt changed his tack. “All right. I’ll make a deal with you. Give me an hour, one hour, and after an hour, if you still want a ticket to Missoula, I’ll buy you one.”
Biting her trembling lower lip, Doreen’s advice came to mind. If she didn’t take his offer, Petra knew that later she would look back and regret she’d dismissed his offer out of hand. She knew it in her heart.
“Very well, you have an hour.” The crowd, to her surprise, clapped with delight.
Parting the crowd with his shoulders, Matt took her by the elbow and guided her across the street to the bank. They bypassed the clerks and the assistant manager, going right into the president’s office. A bespectacled gentleman rose from behind his desk, smiled and held out his hand to her.
“Ah, Miss Yurvasi, come in. We have a few papers for you to sign. It will only take a moment.”
Matt held out a chair for her. The bank president handed her a freshly-inked quill and shoved a stack of papers across the desk to her. With the pen hovering over the desk, Petra stopped to ask, “What is it I’m signing, pray tell?”
The bank president appeared puzzled by her question and looked to Matt to explain.
“These papers give you title to your home, Petra.”
Furious, bouncing around to look up into his face, she asked, “And how did this come about, Mr. Buxton?”
“I bought the house from the Laski brothers. The bank was holding their debts, and the bank was on the brink of attaching your trust. With the sale of the house, the debts are paid, and I’ve signed over title to the house, your house, the house you bought with your money, to you. You may do with it what you please. You may lease it. I understand there are several people looking to lease homes here in town. Or, you could sell it, use the money for whatever you want. You might want to use it as a nest egg for Gabriel’s education. I tried to catch you when you were in here. Then it took me a minute to figure out where you’d gone. That’s when I spotted the crowd, and I figured you were the attraction.”
It was too much. She started to cry, blubbering like a complete idiot, she asked, “Why did you do this? I didn’t ask you to do this.”
Getting down on his haunches, Matt took her into his arms, and she put her head on his big, wide, solid shoulder while he stroked her back in slow circles that sent a flow of hot lava down to the tips of her toes.
“Petra, I thought you’d want your house back.”
“I do,” she managed to say on a sob. “I do want it back. I don’t want to live in it, but I want it.”
“Okay, then sign the papers and it’s yours. That’s all you have to do.”
“But the money, Matt, it’s your money that made it possible.”
Pulling back to see into her eyes, he said, “I’ve got money, Petra. I don’t have anywhere to spend it living out at the hot springs. I’ve kept it here in the bank, and I’ve invested some in the railroad. I’ve got money, Petra, don’t worry about that.”
It seemed silly, and far too easy, but she signed the papers. Later she might believe it was true, that she owned a house and property, later, after some time passed, but for right now, it all seemed like a very nice dream.
She signed the papers and without so much as a word, Matt then led her behind the bank and down the alley. They came out on a grassy bank above the Powder River where a stand of cottonwood trees stood, bare and stark against the winter sun.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Matt stopped her with a kiss, his lips warm and strong. It would be so easy to melt into his arms, to give herself to him and to hell with everything else.
Too soon, he released her and stepped back. “I’d like to say a few things before you tell me where to go, Petra. I want to see if I can change your mind. Then you can tell me I’m a lout, a bully, and a no-good. All right?”
She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling, and folded her hands at her waist, barely able to keep from squealing with anticipation.
“I think you and I can make a home for ourselves and Gabriel out at the hot springs. I bought some cattle this morning. And, I think if I built a couple of cabins out at the hot springs, we could rent them out to some guests and make it a little resort. It won’t be much, but it might turn out to be something. I don’t know, it’s just an idea I’ve been turning around in my head. I need you to tell me what you think.”
She started to tell him what she thought, but he stopped her by putting a finger over her lips.
“Wait, I’m not finished. This is very important, and I want you to understand me, so listen carefully. I love you, like I’ve never loved anyone before. I want you by my side as a partner. For me, that’s what marriage is about, a partnership. What’s mine is yours, Petra. If you say yes, you’ll have me. The judge is ready to say the words and we’ll sign the deal. If you say no…if you say no, then I’ll slink off and die somewhere, ‘cause I’ll stop breathing without you. I will, I swear to God.”
Her throat constricted with emotion, and all she could do was shake her head. Tears streamed down her cheeks and dripped from her chin. She thought she must look a mess.
When she looked up, there were tears in his eyes too. “You don’t have to stop breathing, Matt.” She put a finger to his cheek to stop the tear from dripping down his jaw. “I love you, too.”
“You do?” Before she knew it, he swept her up off her feet and started to twirl her around and around. The river, the trees, the sky, became a blur of sparkling water, gray trees, green grass and blue sky. Dizzy, he set her down on her feet and planted a long kiss on her lips. Petra clung to him, hugged his big chest, never wanting to let go.
Chuckling, he pulled away. “We have a lot to do. We have to get over to the mercantile. I almost bought a couple gallons of whitewash for the outside of the house this morning but decided to wait for you. I’d like a red barn. And I think it’s time we put up some curtains at the windows. I know how to sew.”
He started to walk back toward town, propelling her along with his arm around her waist. “Maybe we better get some freight wagons lined up. I suppose you’ll want to get some of your things out of the house and get them home.”
It took her a few seconds to catch up with him, in her mind and her step, but she managed to skip to keep up. “I know how to sew too, Matt. But curtains, Matt? Are you sure you want curtains?”
“Yeah. You want curtains, don’t you?”
“Yes, I love curtains. I like lace.”
Shaking his head, he made a face of disgust. “No lace. We’ll look at the calico. I guess you could have lace in our bedroom.”
As they rounded the corner and headed down the boardwalk, they came to a compromise.
Calico, indeed, Matt had come a long way, a very long way. Petra smiled to herself. She wondered if he would mind yellow for the outside of the house. Yellow with white trim and a blue door, and flowers, lots of flowers.