An Unconventional Lady Page 11

  “No, ma’am. I mean, yes, he’s still here.” Oh, she was a bumbling idiot. “A small child fell into the canyon tonight. Dallas went after him, and now he’s unconscious upstairs, with a concussion and broken ribs.”

  The other woman arched an eyebrow. “Dallas or the child?”

  “Dallas.”

  She nodded. “That sounds like my boy, heading off to someone’s aid. Please take me to him.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Annie rushed to lead the way. She stopped in front of Dallas’s room and waved his mother in before her. “Mother, this is Mrs. Baker, Dallas’s mother.”

  Mother looked taken aback before regaining her composure and stepping forward. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Esther Rollins.”

  “Ellen.” Mrs. Baker dropped her reticule on the foot of the bed, then perched beside her son. “He’s quite battered, isn’t he?” She wrung out the cloth Annie had dropped earlier.

  “And quite the hero. You should be very proud of him.” Mother handed her the witch hazel and cotton. “Would you like some tea while you care for your son?”

  “That would be delightful.”

  Mother ushered Annie from the room. “Is the water boiling?”

  “No. We have two other guests, also. I planned on putting Mrs. Baker in the rose room, but we never made it that far.”

  “Quite right. A mother always wants to be with her child when that child has been injured.” Mother grabbed the teakettle. “See if there are any of those cookies left from this morning. It may be late, but that poor woman must be famished.”

  Annie followed orders automatically. Her heart lay like a cold stone in the pit of her stomach. Mrs. Baker would take Dallas home for sure. He might be a grown man, but men tended to listen to their mothers, even if no one else. She’d miss him. Very much. Life at the Grand Canyon would never be the same.

  Maybe Annie should consider leaving. She could renew her contract with the Harvey Company and head east or to California. Instead of a sea of sand, she could gaze upon an ocean of wonder. With Mother marrying Mr. Harris, she doubted it would take too much convincing to get her to sell the house. Annie suspected she kept it running for her daughter’s future, in case she never married.

  Could Annie leave one of God’s greatest wonders for the unknown? She doubted she’d see anything as grand as the canyon in the towns along the railroad tracks. But she wouldn’t know unless she tried.

  She located the cookies and set them on a tray. If she remained with the Harvey Company, she could travel and eventually settle wherever she wanted. If she decided to return to the area, she could possibly be head waitress at El Tovar someday. She set the tray next to the stove and moved to the window, where she gazed out into the night.

  Yes, if everyone she cared about was no longer there in Williams, she could be convinced to leave her home.

  * * *

  “Ma?” Dallas struggled to sit up. Pain shot down his side, stealing his breath. “How long have I been down? Am I dying? What are you doing here?”

  She laughed and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Stay still, son. No, you aren’t dying, and since I just arrived, I have no idea how long you’ve been lying here, but I suspect only an hour or two.” She slid another pillow behind him. “See if you can’t take a sip of tea, all right?”

  “Then why are you here?” He craned his neck to drink.

  “I came as quick as the train would bring me in response to your letter.” She set the cup on a bedside table and frowned. “I thought I taught you better than I obviously did.”

  “How so?” His breath hitched. “Did I bust some ribs?”

  She nodded. “Yes, and I’m very proud of your heroic action, but if not for your saving of that young boy’s life, I’d box your ears. Have another sip of tea.”

  “I don’t want any tea.” Dallas groaned. “Ma. Why. Are. You. Here? Did Pa send you?”

  “Of course your pa didn’t send me. I have a mind of my own, and so, it seems, does the young lady you apparently have your eye on.” Ma smiled. “Was that the blond one who brought me up here? She’s lovely. And no sight of a split skirt.”

  “She’s very lovely.” Dallas closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them again, ready for a lecture. “When she isn’t wearing that skirt.”

  “What difference does that make?” Ma’s eyes shot sparks.

  “I want a wife who’s a lady like you.” He shifted. Why couldn’t he get comfortable? “A woman who doesn’t mind some hard work, but still looks like a lady.”

  Ma pounded the mattress, sending a shard of pain through his ribs. “I apologize to you for raising a fool.” She stood. “I’ll be back in the morning, and pray you grow some wisdom in the meantime.”

  “Wait.” Dallas struggled halfway to a sitting position and supported his weight on his elbow. “I’m thoroughly confused.” Why wouldn’t she answer his questions? Why did she keep calling him a fool? Ma had always been loving and supportive, kind but firm.

  She heaved a sigh. “Son, I’ve been wearing split skirts for years. I even have a leather one with fringe. We do live on a ranch, where a dress or full skirt is impractical.” She placed a kiss on his forehead. “Think about it. You’ll remember. But even if I didn’t occasionally have the need to dress less femininely, that is no reason for a son of mine to pass up a good thing because of prejudice. Good night, son.” She glided from the room, leaving him alone.

  Ma wore the slimmer, split skirts? He laid back and stared at the ceiling. Had he been so busy working with the cattle and horses he’d never really noticed what she wore? Had he only assumed?

  His head hurt, impeding his thought processes. If Ma said she wore those infernal skirts, then she must. She’d never lie to him. He closed his eyes and pulled the sheet up around his chin.

  When he awoke the next morning, sunlight streamed through the open curtains, and Annie was placing a tray on the bedside table. “Good morning.” She smiled. “Feeling better?”

  “Some.” He yanked the sheet back into place. “Where’s my mother?”

  “Having breakfast. You’re a big boy. You don’t need her around every moment.” Annie fluffed his pillows, tantalizing him with a flowery scent. She wore her uniform, most likely taking care of his needs before heading to work.

  “You’re late.”

  She nodded. “I let them know. Folks around here think you can walk on water after what you did. No one will care that I’m late, because I brought your breakfast. Do you need anything else?”

  He shook his head and watched her leave, the black skirt swishing around her ankles, the white ribbon bobbing in her puffed-up hair. She was lovely in her uniform, beautiful in anything else. Yes, he was a fool.

  “Mr. Baker?” The boy he’d rescued the night before peered around the door frame. “Can I come in? The woman downstairs said it was okay.”

  “Sure, Billy.” Dallas pushed himself to a sitting position. “I’m glad for the company. You can hand me that brown shirt over there.”

  The boy handed him the garment, and Dallas slipped his arms through the sleeves. He was tired of going shirtless in a houseful of women. Besides, no more bed rest for him. He planned to be up and about within the hour.

  “How are you feeling, Billy? How’s the arm?”

  Billy showed him the cast. “Only hurts a little bit, now. My ma said pain is good. It’s proof that I’m alive.”

  “That it does.” Dallas grimaced. He was living big time, judging by the pain coursing through his head and body. The child should be pretty banged up, too. He marveled at the resilience of a ten-year-old boy.

  “I brought you something,” Billy said, darting back into the hall. When he arrived, he had a crate in his hand. A whimpering came from inside. “I snuck it in, but the lady in black caught me. She said it was okay.�
�� Billy pulled out a yellow pup and set it in Dallas’s lap. “I want you to have my puppy as thanks for saving me. I’ll get one out of the neighbor man’s next litter.”

  Mrs. Rollins would have a fit. Dallas laughed as the pup clambered up and licked his face. “What’s his name?”

  “Whatever you want it to be. I was kind of thinking Hero, like you.” Billy climbed onto the bed. “Tell me if I jostle you too much or the puppy hurts you. I thought he could keep you company until you’re up and about.”

  Dallas didn’t feel like a hero. He’d done what any person would, but he did love animals. And this little furry Hero had hair the same color as Annie’s.

  Chapter 17

  The room erupted in applause.

  Annie turned. She almost dropped the full carafe of coffee. “What are you doing out of bed?” Dallas and his mother were seated at one of her tables.

  He gave a small wave around the room, his face bright, and pulled out a chair for Mrs. Baker. “I’m feeling fine and wanted to share a special meal with Ma.” He sat across the table from his mother.

  “But your head. Your ribs.” Annie poured them both cups of coffee. “You shouldn’t overdo things.”

  Mrs. Baker placed a hand over hers. “I’ll see he’s careful. Don’t fret.”

  Shame burned up Annie’s neck and into her face. “I apologize. Of course you know what’s best for your son.” She couldn’t push the cart to the next table fast enough. How could she be so dense as to berate Dallas in front of his mother? No one knew better than she what he needed.

  Annie rushed through the kitchen and into the pantry. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Lord, have mercy on her for her foolishness. She’d lost all reason where Dallas was concerned.

  Her heart almost stopped as she relived the moment he’d keeled over into the dirt. Thinking him dead, she’d fallen to her knees at his side and ranted like a madwoman. From the astonished look on Sean’s face, she doubted he’d ask to spend time with her again. Mother hadn’t missed the show of emotion on Annie’s part, either. Luckily, Dottie had already returned to the hotel in a huff by then, and Annie had been spared her dramatics. Maybe she could play off the moment as extreme concern for a dear friend and nothing more.

  “Shirking your duties?” Dottie squeezed into the room. “People are waiting for their drinks.”

  Annie sighed and pushed past her. It wouldn’t do for Miss Cartwright, or the hotel manager, to find her slacking. She’d have to dwell on her feelings at night in bed. The only place where she could enjoy a moment of privacy.

  Her steps slowed. When was the last time she’d sat in her special place overlooking the canyon? Most likely, that was what she needed to fix what ailed her. Time with God in His glorious creation.

  The busyness of life had distracted her from what was really important. Spirits lighter, she entered the dining room and resumed pouring drinks for the customers. Sean sat at one table, and greeted her with a smile. Annie’s own smile faltered. She’d thought for sure he’d want nothing more to do with her.

  “Good morning, Annie.” He nodded toward his coffee cup. “Seems our local hero has a visitor.”

  “His mother.”

  “Perfect timing. Now, neither you nor your mother will have to care for him.” He stopped her by placing his hand on her arm. “You have enough to do.”

  Here was her chance to begin removing any ideas people might have about her feelings for Dallas. “My mother did most of the work before his arrived.” Annie set the pitcher back on the tray. “It’s difficult to see such a dear friend hurting.”

  He tilted his head and stared for a few seconds. “A friend?”

  “A friend.” She forced a smile and moved along the line of tables.

  Word should spread soon enough, dispelling any rumors that might be flying around since the night before. If she was lucky, word would reach Mother’s ears and she’d actually believe them.

  A never-ending stream of customers filled Annie’s day. By the time her shift was over, her feet and back ached. She couldn’t remember a time the boardinghouse, much less the hotel, had been so full. The railroad benefited everyone.

  Still, tired or not, she headed to her seat by the canyon. She removed the bow from her hair and untied her apron, placing both on the log beside her. The canyon plunged into darkness before her, but she’d stared at the view so many times, she had no trouble picturing its beauty. Now, she also saw its danger.

  Once Dallas was healed, she’d ask him to put up a railing. It should have been done years ago. They’d been lucky so far that no one had died. But as the area grew more populated and drew more visitors, the risk of accidents increased.

  She glanced over her shoulder to see Dallas and his mother approaching the front porch. He helped her into one of the rockers and sat beside her. In her black dress, in the shadows of the pine trees, Annie doubted Dallas could see her.

  Instead of peace, she felt alone. Mother had Mr. Harris, Dallas had Dottie and his mother, and Annie had no one. Only Sean on occasion. Maybe she expected too much from people. Was it possible that the calm feelings she experienced around the pastor were what couples felt for each other? Could it be that the racing of her heart when Dallas walked into a room was something fleeting, an emotion that wouldn’t stand the test of time?

  She picked up a stick and drew patterns in the dirt she couldn’t see in the dark. The voices from the porch drifted her way, muffled by the distance. How nice that Dallas had the freedom to converse openly with his mother. Since her husband’s death, Mother had become withdrawn. That is until Mr. Harris started paying her attention.

  Did a woman need a man to make her complete? Confusion clouded Annie’s mind. She wanted to be a man’s helpmate, as the Bible said one should be. Not a helpless woman who could do nothing on her own or one who needed a man to make her feel fulfilled. Times were changing, and Annie wanted to adapt to them.

  The problem was...she no longer knew whether she wanted to adapt alone or not.

  * * *

  “The two of you skirt around each other like territorial bears,” Ma said, setting her rocker into motion. “Why don’t you go talk to the girl?”

  “About what?” Dallas shook his head.

  “You could start by thanking her for caring for you after your fall. According to her mother, they both tended to you until I arrived.”

  Annie had seen him half-dressed. His mouth dried up. No wonder she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Could they talk about her tending him without that uncomfortable subject being broached?

  “Who is the young Irish girl giving you dog eyes all morning?” Ma brushed at her skirt.

  “Just a girl I’ve kept company with a time or two.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What?” Dallas tried to make out her features.

  “Don’t toy with a girl’s affections, son. The way that little lady looks at you, I’m guessing she doesn’t see you as an occasional acquaintance.”

  “I was afraid of that.” But then again, she’d left when a man needed a woman. Dallas could tell her that was the reason things couldn’t work between them. That she was too young for a man ready to settle down and have a family.

  He glanced to where Annie sat, the moon shining on her hair. He would convince that one someday. If she’d listen. He still had a hard time coming to terms with the way Ma said she sometimes dressed. Why did it bother him so much?

  “My reluctance to tell Annie how I feel has to be more than her choice of skirts.”

  “That’s not something I can help you with.” Ma continued to rock, the chair giving an occasional squeak. “But I’m guessing it might have something to do with your aunt Sadie.”

  “Who?”

  “My sister.” Ma grinned. “She’s in California somewhere. I get a letter
from her once in a while. You haven’t seen her since you were a little bitty thing. She made quite the impression, though, with her split skirts, raunchy speech and smelly cigars.”

  He searched his memory. He had a vague impression of a woman with a long, mahogany-colored braid and a rifle as tall as she was. “Wasn’t she a drover?”

  “Ah, you do remember. Yes, she still is, and according to her, loved by everyone she runs across.”

  “Then why did she make an unfavorable impression on me?”

  “As the baby in the family at that time, you were frightened by her. Your older brothers thought she was a hoot.” Ma chuckled. “She is a strange bird, my sister, but you won’t find a woman who loves the Lord more.” She patted his hand. “Son, you’ve got to stop judging people by the way they look. Pray about it. If that little gal is meant for you, then God will make a way.”

  He nodded. Hero bounded from the barn and made a beeline for Annie.

  She laughed, the sound as pretty as a babbling brook. She scooped Hero into her arms and nuzzled him.

  Silly mutt with a silly name. “Guess I ought to go fetch my dog.”

  Ma chuckled again. “Son, I’ve missed you very much.”

  He stood and bent to lay a kiss on her cheek. “Not as much as I’ve missed you. I plan on staying here for a while longer, but I’ll return to the ranch someday.”

  “See that you do.” She pushed to her feet. “I’m going to retire to my room now and write your pa a letter telling him I’ll be home in a few days. Good night, son.”

  “Good night, Ma.” He watched her enter the house, then he headed toward Annie.

  She giggled and fell off the log, Hero in her arms. She glanced up at Dallas. “Hello.”

  “You’ve made a friend.” He took the dog in one arm, receiving his own share of slobbery kisses, and helped Annie back to her seat with the other.

  “He’s a darling.” She scratched under the puppy’s chin. “I’ve always wanted a dog, but Mother always said no. Is that why you’re keeping him in the barn?”

  “Yeah. I haven’t told her I have him yet.”