She’ll move when she’s good and ready.” Micah swept his hand in a gallant gesture toward the door.
Deborah gulped and headed toward the opening.
Lou stayed by the door. Micah left Deborah and went inside. He bumped into something, then she heard the scratch of a lucifer. A circle of light radiated from a lantern. “Okay. You can come on in.”
A cave? Dustin had been living here like a mole? Thoughts tumbled in Deborah’s mind as she stepped inside. She had hardly any money and no place left to go. Faced with that awful truth, she squared her shoulders and decided to make the best of this situation. The place smelled of dirt and moisture. With Lou right behind her, blocking out the light, she had only the meager glow of the lamp to light the interior.
An iron bedstead took up a third of the tiny dwelling. The blankets on it were a rumpled mess and spattered with dirt and mud. A pair of crates with a board atop them served as a table, and the backless portion of a cast-off chair was the only seat in the place. On the far wall, a shelf crammed into the wall held a few odds and ends beside a small, pot-bellied stove, and a shirt hung from a peg.
“Well,” she said, trying to sound confident, “as soon as my things arrive, I’ll be able to fix this place up.”
“You can’t stay here.”
She acted as if she hadn’t heard Micah’s pronouncement and walked to the stove. “If you give me a moment, I’ll see what I have on hand.”
“We just had supper.” Lou gave her an odd look.
“Yes, well, perhaps a cup of coffee or tea before you take your leave.” Deborah stuffed tinder into the stove and tossed in a dried disk she hated to touch. She’d read about buffalo chips, but she hadn’t thought she’d actually have to cook with them.
“Now that you mention it, coffee sounds mighty good.” Lou sat on the chair and watched her.
“Come to your senses.” Micah glowered at his sister, then turned to Deborah. “You’re not staying out here alone. It’s not safe. Pack up anything you want to keep.”
Just standing inside this place, Deborah felt like she was being buried alive. She swallowed hard and knotted her hands together.
Lou pulled a small, pasteboard box from beneath the bed. “Found your letters to your intended. A few got sorta mouse-bit.”
Deborah cleared her throat. “Just leave them there.” She swiped a handful of weeds from the wall and headed toward the stove.
Micah stopped her. “What are you doing?”
She glanced down at her fist. “Making use of what’s available. This will serve as fair kindling.”
“You already put kindling in the stove,” Lou reminded her.
“You’re not,” he growled, “starting a fire.”
“Of course I am.”
Lou said, “Chances are, birds are nesting inside the pipes.”
Micah glared at Deborah and repeated himself in a tone she supposed was meant to be well modulated, but the muscle in his jaw twitched. “No fire, Deborah.”
Deborah didn’t argue. Once they were gone, she’d do as she pleased. Lou must be crazy to think birds would nest in this place. Even if they had flown into the pipe in hopes of establishing a home, they would have rushed right back out. They have more sense than I do. I have to start a fire for light and heat once they leave, or I’ll panic. Deborah scooted past Micah and stubbornly shoved the weeds into the stove.
“Those are too damp,” Lou informed her. “Even if they catch fire, they’ll just cause a bunch of smoke.”
Why doesn’t that surprise me? The rest of my life has gone up in smoke, too.
Micah watched Deborah with mounting dread. The crazy woman grabbed some beans and put them to soak for her supper the next day. Dirt sifted from the ceiling and fell into the pot. Though Deborah didn’t quite manage to suppress her shudder, she turned away and whisked the quilt off the bed. “Lou, could you please help me shake this out?”
Micah figured the minute prissy little Deborah saw the soddy, she would dissolve into a puddle of tears. He’d been wrong. Deborah was trying to nest here just like the birds in the stovepipe!
Micah rasped, “Enough of this. Time we left.”
“Yes,” Lou agreed hastily. “It’s going on dusk soon. We can’t risk the horses and wagon in the dark.”
This situation was impossible, and they’d played it long enough. He’d brought Deborah to prove she couldn’t survive here, and the silly woman was actually planning to stay! She’d likely die of fright the first night she spent alone. Oh, but there she stood, a smile on her delicate face, her slender-fingered hands holding that filthy quilt.
Behind her, a sudden fall of dirt warned she was about to entertain another guest. Micah wondered if she’d ever seen a gopher, but he wasn’t about to introduce her to this one. He grabbed Deborah’s wrist and hauled her out the door.
She dug in her heels. “This is all—”
Her sentence ended in a surprised shriek as Micah tilted her over his shoulder, carried her to the wagon, and unceremoniously dumped her in the bed.
“Lady, somebody’s got to save you from yourself.”
“Took you long enough.” Lou slammed the door shut and climbed into the wagon. The whole thing squeaked in protest as Micah got in at the same time. “Did you see that—”
“Yes.” He cut off whatever his sister was about to say, and his tone made it clear she wasn’t supposed to pursue the subject.
Deborah got up on her knees and clutched the back of the seat. “I saw it. What was that thing?”
“A gopher. Sure as toads hop, he’d land on your bed.” Micah swiveled around and gave her a heated look. “You were supposed to get out here and show enough common sense to go back to where you came from.”
She lifted her chin. “That’s not possible.”
“Nothing is more impossible than you living out here.”
“He’s right.” Lou’s inky braid danced up and down as she vigorously bobbed her head. “I wouldn’t even try it, and I know how to shoot and ride.”
“Thank you for your opinions,” Deborah said as she reached out and brushed a spider off Micah’s sleeve. “But Daddy always said God would put me where He wanted. I’m not going to argue with the Almighty.” Having made that statement, she gathered her skirts and awkwardly swung out of the wagon.
“That spider was the size of an apple!” Lou squawked.
Micah clicked, and the horse pulled the buckboard past Deborah until the rear wheel was right in front of the soddy’s door. Micah looked down at Deborah. “I can be every bit as stubborn.”
“I have no doubt of that.”
He cracked a grin. “So are you going to take pity on the horses if you don’t feel much of it for Lou and me? Climb on up here.”
She let out a sigh. “I need to do something first.”
He nodded and pulled the wagon forward a bit more.
Deborah opened the door to the awful habitation, bit her lip to keep from crying, and went inside. She nervously scanned the habitation and saw no sign of the gopher. Nothing in this filthy place mattered to her—other than the letters she and Dustin exchanged. She lifted the gritty box and turned to leave.
Micah stood in the doorway and wordlessly extended his hand. She trudged over, slipped her hand in his, and let him take her back to the wagon. He didn’t sneer or gloat with any “I told you so’s.” Instead, he cupped his big hands about her waist, gave her a little squeeze, then lifted her up. When they got back to his ranch, he helped her down and gave her that same reassuring squeeze.
Lou scampered up the porch steps, opened the door wide, and called, “Micah brought her back, Grandma.”
Micah’s voice was low and steady as he said, “You’re welcome to stay awhile ’til we decide what to do with you.”
She might be stranded, but she wasn’t stupid. Staying here was far better than being in the soddy or near any of those men in town. Deborah looked up at his craggy face in the dimming light. “Thank you. I’ll try not to be too big of a bother.”
“Sugar, you’re a lady.” The left side of his mouth pulled, but she couldn’t decide whether it was a wince or an arrested grin. “Ladies are bound to be bothers out here.”