Page 12 of A Letter to Adaya
“It’s all right, Em. I can hook up the wagon and go,” Jesse cut in smoothly. “Does she have a name?”
“But why would Beau just leave? She’s going to think we didn’t get her wire.” Emily turned to Georgia. “We need two rooms.”
“Two rooms?” Aunt Cleo looked up.
“It says she has an escort, but that could be a man or woman. They’ll need somewhere to sleep, at least for tonight.” Emily cut herself off, walking back through the kitchen door, and Beau watched her snatch up the pickle jar before returning, one already halfway to her mouth.
He shook his head. What was it with these women and Aunt Cleo’s sour pickles?
Aunt Cleo started thinking out loud. “You and Bass are in his old room. Simon and Georgia are in his old room. Madison is in Nate’s room when she’s here. Beau is in his room, and Jesse is in his room or the bunkhouse. I’m between rooms right now.”
“I can also sleep in the bunkhouse.” Beau spoke up. “But Emily, who were you intending to introduce her to?” The words felt funny in his mouth. He didn’t want a wife. They made men soft. Just look at Simon and Bass. Nate’s wife at least kept him on his toes.
“That’s not my decision. Miss Breckenridge seemed well versed in many things, and I wanted to give her an opportunity to choose if she married one of you.” Emily smiled in response, as if she was privy to some great secret the others didn’t know about.
Something inside of Beau stilled. He could count the individual beats of his heart, and his tongue was suddenly dry.Breckenridge.His eyes widened, and he searched Emily’s face for any sign of teasing.
“Let Jesse fetch them,” he blurted. “I’ll be the last one she wants to see.” Turning on his heel, he scurried towards the front door only to collide into Bass’s chest.
Bass placed his hands on Beau’s shoulders to steady him. “I think you and I will go to town. We’re going to have a long overdue chat about the way you speak to my wife.” His eyes never left Beau’s face as he called out to Jesse. “Hitch up the wagon for me, would ya?”
Beau felt his brother’s fingers dig into his shoulders for another minute before pushing him away. Bass moved further into the house; he sweetly called Emily for a snack to take with him, as Beau headed out to the porch to wait for his brother.
“Wasn’t Breckenridge the name of the man you bought the horses from?” Simon’s quiet words cut through Beau’s thoughts.
“Yeah, it was.”
“You don’t suppose he is coming to take them back, do you?”
“I gave you the bill of sale, Simon. If he’s coming for the horses, I would assume the wire would have been to me, not Emily.” Beau shook his head, wishing that things weren’t always so complicated. “Put them in my and Jesse’s rooms. I just need to grab some clothes.”
“Then it’s probably a coincidence. I’ve got one more for you.”
They didn’t believe in coincidences; things either happened in God’s time or not at all. Coincidences were just unlikely in this part of the country.
Beau sighed. This day was getting better and better. “Let’s hear it.”
“I finally heard from the land agent. We’ve got a name for the man who owns the property you’ve been looking for.” Simon seemed pleased.
Beau straightened; he could hear Bass saying goodbye inside the house, and Jesse was just pulling the wagon up to the front porch, Bass’s horse walking alongside it. “Spit it out.”
“A man named Breckenridge from Chicago.”
Beau smacked his hands down on the rail in front of him. “If that don’t beat all.”
“That’s about half of it,” Simon smirked. “You have fun in town now, withMiss Breckenridge. Try to find your manners and don’t be too much of a grumpy bear.” He slipped back inside, changing places with Bass, who looked about as happy as a sheep in a mud puddle.
He should have stayed in bed this morning.
They rode in silence until they could no longer see the house. “Did you talk to Jesse? He’s still going into town most nights.” Bass finally asked, breaking the quiet.
Beau let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.This he could talk about.“It’s not what you think.”
Doc Mueller waved when they passed the turn to his cabin. Both brothers lifted their hands to return the greeting. “I think he’s spending an awful lot of time at the saloon. What else should I be thinking?”
“No, you think he’s taking advantage of town? I talked to Whit Hartman after I talked to Jesse. His story checked out. Looks like little brother has taken to playing hero a bit. Didn’t like it when a couple of drunkards started harassing the piano gal. Whit didn’t charge Jesse. Instead, he hauled him in to get him out of the saloon and let him clear his head.”
It made sense once Jesse had laid out all the details that night on the trail. None of them liked to see a woman being harmed. They weren’t raised that way, and it didn’t matter what their job was, getting hit wasn’t right. Now that the Pickett boys were seeing more of it, Jesse couldn’t let it stand.
