Chapter 8



All in all, things settled down to a routine in his house. Both Millie and Tate were much more agreeable and settled after a week of decent sleep and food. Adam showed up for meals—because Millie’s cooking was always mouth-watering and fabulous—and then he disappeared to the jailhouse or walked around town, occasionally riding out for business or to see his family. He tiptoed into the house late at night, after his final rounds, and up to his bedroom so he wouldn’t disturb—or see—them.

Millie was getting used to small town life. Now, driving Tate and her out to Hilda’s homestead, Adam couldn’t wait for Hilda’s sod house to come into view. He would bet Dagmar was relishing Cora’s first gasp at the crude house too, as he was driving her out at the same time. Sarah had volunteered to come over to take care of Tate while the women had their first riding and shooting lessons. Adam chuckled to himself, betting his mother wouldn’t miss the “show” either.

Both his passengers stared, wide-eyed and quiet, at the open scenery. Adam couldn’t figure out why it seemed to bother Millie, but it did. Heck, this way it was hard for anyone to sneak up on you, but she got that “frightened deer” look in her eyes after he mentioned that fact.

“Here we are, Hilda’s home sweet home,” Adam announced as he pulled the horse’s reins and then set the brake on the buggy.

“Dirty house,” Tate exclaimed, pointing at the soddie.

“Yes, Hilda lives in a sod house made of grass and soil layers. There are no trees on the prairie for wood, so you have to make your dwelling out of what is available.” Adam jumped from the buggy and walked around to help the others down. He swung Tate down to the ground and watched as he toddled toward Hilda, who stood outside her home holding a tiny, yapping dog. Hilda’s dog should keep Tate busy and vice versa. That mutt was never quiet.

Adam automatically turned, ready to help Millie down, but she stayed seated, looking around the place instead of at his waiting hands. “Come on, it’ll be all right. You really do need to learn how to ride and shoot if you stay in Kansas.”

“Did Hilda dig...or build this house by herself?” Millie asked as she finally rose.

“No, although I’m sure she’d be up to the task. My other brother, Noah, claimed this acreage and built the house and buildings before he went back East to get his bride.”

“What happened—since he isn’t here, and Hilda owns the place instead?”

Adam’s hands tingled in delight at having them around Millie’s slim waist and he hesitated to let go of her after he got Millie down to the ground. “Huh? Oh, Noah’s intended had already married someone else before he got there, and he’s been roaming the West since then. Hilda bought the place since Noah hadn’t proved up the claim yet.”

Dagmar and Cora pulled up in the ranch buggy, and Cora jumped out and ran towards the house before Dagmar got the startled horse under control. Adam watched Dagmar shake his head and probably say “Dang”. Cora chatted excitedly to Hilda while she patted the sod bricks that made up the house.

“Looks like Cora’s settling into the Wild West?” Adam asked Dagmar as they walked their horses toward the barn to unhitch the buggies.

“She has taken to the ranch better than a baby duck to water. First she spent hours roping a fence post. Then she moved on to roping the poor ranch dogs. She caught a running horse yesterday, and about got drug off her own mount until she finally let go of the rope.

“Cora begged a pair of trousers from a smitten ranch hand and has been riding a different horse each day, going all over the ranch with anybody who is going anywhere. She even spent yesterday afternoon out riding the herd. Riding astride in a western saddle has not been a problem for her. Actually, she’s quite a horsewoman, but don’t you dare repeat that, Adam Wilerson.”

Adam couldn’t help but tease, “So how’s living together going?”

“She hadn’t unpacked the first of five trunks that the hands lugged upstairs by the time I moved out of the big house and was settled in to the bunk house. Why would you need so much stuff and outfits for just a visit? Can you imagine what she would have brought along if she was actually moving here?” Dagmar’s voice rose with each sentence.

“At least you don’t have to worry anymore about all that fancy crystal in the house that you patrolled watch over every night,” Adam couldn’t resist kidding the tall Swede as Dagmar took a playful swing at him.

“So you been eating her cooking?”

“Nope. Been eating with the ranch hands, as has Cora. I must say she’s made herself right at home. Not an uppity bone in her body. Reuben Shepard, our ‘chief cook and bottle washer’ has even warmed up to her.”

“She trying to take over the ranch management since her father owns it?”

Dagmar twitched his mouth back and forth before answering. “You know I was worried about that, but so far all she’s done is look through the account ledgers and just politely ask questions. She still hasn’t said a word about her family or why she’s out here by herself.

“At least you don’t look scared to death of her anymore,” Adam said, and Dagmar hung his head and blushed.

“Yea, I’m finally feeling more at ease around her. Cora’s okay for a rich, city girl.”

“Glad to hear you’re getting along. How about we set up a shooting range west of the barn after we take care of the horses? Between ours and Hilda’s variety of guns, the ladies can get the feel of several different types of weapons.”

***

Millie’s hands shook and her breath quickened as she walked out of the dirt house and over to where the rest of the people stood by the corral. She had gone inside Hilda’s one-room house to change into Rania’s split skirt. Even though the dirt floor, dirt walls, and the ceiling, made with limbs and dirt, was made out of….dirt…it still looked and smelled cleaner than most buildings and streets in the part of Chicago where she had lived. Everything was such a contrast from her past life.

I can do this. I have to do this. Millie told herself as she took deep breaths and willed her feet to walk over to the waiting horse that looked curiously her way. Millie hoped it wasn’t the famed Nutcracker that everyone had talked about earlier.

Hilda handed Millie a slice of apple when she got close to her new friends.

“Millie, hold your palm out flat and steady and let Louise eat this apple slice. Her funny nose hairs will tickle your palm, but she won’t bite you…if you keep your hand flat.”

Millie couldn’t keep her hand from shaking until Adam took her by the elbow and steadied her in front him at the horse’s head. “It’s okay, Millie. Hilda trains her animals to be calm and gentle. There’s no reason to be scared of this little mare.”

“But she’s taller than me and could stomp on my foot,” Millie barely whispered. She couldn’t help leaning back on Adam to soak in his support and the strength of his warm chest.

Cora was already sitting comfortably on a brown and white blotchy looking horse that she thought Hilda had called a palomino paint. “Just relax Millie, and talk to her,” encouraged Hilda.

Oh dear. Cora is already at ease on top of a horse, and I’m afraid to stand near one?

Millie’s brain scrambled to take in what Hilda was saying. “…just put your boot in the stirrup and swing your right leg over to the other side. Adam will steady you, so don’t be afraid.”

She took a deep breath and did as she was told, with the help of Adam’s guidance. He patted her leg and said, “Now open your eyes and keep them open.” Millie realized she did have her eyes squeezed shut and opened them to stare at Adam’s twinkling, hazel eyes.

Hilda had a hold on the mare’s reins. “Okay, Millie. Hold on to the pommel, that’s the horn-shaped piece on the front of the saddle, and I’ll lead you around for a bit first so you can get your balance.”

Millie couldn’t help panicking, seeing how high she was off the ground, so she decided to stare ahead at the scenery instead. Adam kept his hand on her thigh to help keep her balanced, although it made Millie’s nerves tingle instead. She willed her attention off the man and onto the horse because she needed to learn how to ride. Besides it being a way of life here, Millie might need to know how to ride should she ever need to escape danger.

***

Overall, Adam thought the morning’s lessons of riding and shooting had gone well. Cora knew how to ride, but Millie knew how to shoot, it turned out. After Millie got comfortable with the weight and length of each weapon, she picked off the targets like a pro. When asked about her knowing how to shoot, she just answered that her father had instructed her when she was a child.

It was fun to watch Dagmar lean over, almost in half because of his height, to put his arms around petite Cora to steady the rifle for her. Hilda and Adam made eye contact and then rolled their eyes in unison, because they both knew that Cora was leading Dagmar on with her helpless act. Adam would bet a month’s salary that Cora could shoot a jumping prairie dog at twenty yards away, but she seemed to miss every target on purpose so Dagmar would “help” her with the next shot.

Adam’s mother had shown up with a picnic lunch that they enjoyed while sitting on blankets in the shade of the barn. And the meal was topped off with a mouth-watering slice of Millie’s Sunshine Cake. The Paulson’s had received the angel food cake that Millie had used eleven egg whites to make. Adam wished he could have tasted that, but he was satisfied when Millie used the egg yolks for the cake they had just eaten. He was going to get fat—and spoiled—on her delicious baked goods. Millie was going to get the hotel’s baking job, if they could come up with a plan for someone to take care of Tate.

Tate was warming up to Adam, even though they didn’t talk much. The star still bothered Tate for some reason. Adam figured out he could pick the boy up, if he took his badge off and stuck it in his pocket first.

The relationship between Millie and her boy seemed odd to him at times, not the usual bond he’d seen between a mother and child. Maybe that was because of their home situation before coming to Kansas, but neither talked about Tate’s father, and supposedly Millie’s husband.

Twice this week Adam found Tate visiting with Henry and Homer in front of the mercantile. At least both times Tate was fully clothed. Luckily the old men had appointed themselves as Tate’s unofficial babysitters. Tate wandered off as Millie got caught up in her baking, forgetting about him until thirty minutes later when she’d coming running down the street calling for him.

There was something else that Adam wondered about. He would ask Tate, “Where’s your momma?” and the child would look around, tears forming in his baby blue eyes. When Adam asked where Millie was, Tate would point toward the house. Part of the time Tate called Millie “Illie” instead of “momma” too.

Adam, as the town marshal, had gotten a wire from St. Louis asking if a young woman named Donovan, and a red-haired boy had arrived safely in Clear Creek. It wasn’t signed, which wasn’t unusual to save on the cost of a wire. Adam answered back right away as he was requested. Millie didn’t talk about her family. Her mother and siblings had all passed, and it sounded like the father didn’t have a presence in her life. Adam guessed the brother-in-law wanted to be sure Millie made it to her new home so he was the one who sent the wire.

He didn’t know how single mothers like Millie made it in this world. And, he couldn’t help feeling a little bit of satisfaction knowing he was helping them both out. Adam felt blessed to have a close family and a good set of neighbors.

Adam watched Tate toddle by with Hilda’s little mutt yipping at his heels. Maybe he’d get Tate a pet—but definitely something quieter than Hilda’s. Jacob brought in a dozen hens to Adam’s chicken house the first of the week so Millie would have fresh eggs, and darned if Tate didn’t capture one of the squawking chickens and carry it down to show Henry and Homer. Adam chuckled to himself, thinking of that scene he had come across.

Everyone was enjoying themselves, but it was time for Adam to return to town. And he had also learned that it was best if Tate took a nap in the early afternoon. Only a week ago he was a carefree bachelor, immersed in the protection of Clear Creek.

Why today, am I thinking about a child’s nap time instead?