Forever Angels Page 9

  The kitchen door slammed again and Doc Calder stuck his head back into the bedroom.

  "Will you be all right here, Miss Foster? Stone could probably use my help, too."

  "Did you bring me some crutches, Doctor?"

  "Yeah. They're in the buggy. I'll fetch them while the kids load the wagon."

  Doc Calder reappeared in a minute with the crutches and handed them to Tess. "Think you can figure out how to use those things on your own?"

  "I know how to use them, Doctor. Go on and help the kids."

  "Well, be careful. Crutches take a little getting used to. We don't want to add a broken arm to that broken ankle if you fall."

  Doc Calder left the room, and Tess stared at the door with a worried frown on her face for a second. A poisoned waterhole could probably mean a disaster for a ranch as small as Stone's. But then, Rain had said it was only one of the waterholes.

  How many cattle would have already sickened, though, even died? Did the toxic waterhole have anything to do with the hole in the fence Flower had mentioned — or was it a natural phenomenon, caused by some defect in the aquifer?

  She wouldn't be able to find out until Stone and the kids returned, and sitting her worrying about it wouldn't help them any. Tess unwrapped the package and lifted out one dress, her ears straining toward the barely audible sounds of voices in the yard.

  By the time Tess had removed the nightshirt and pulled the dress on, she could hear the wagon leaving the yard. She drew the curtains back on the window beside the bed and saw Rain at the head of the small procession, astride a gray horse. Flower and Doc Calder sat in the wagon seat, the reins to the team in Flower's hands.

  Flower slapped the reins on the broad backs of two huge, brown horses, and Doc grabbed the wagon seat as the horses lurched into a run. Tess stifled a laugh when Doc released his hold and barely managed to save his hat from flying off his head, a startled look on his face.

  Quickly she realized this was no laughing matter and dropped the curtains. She started to button the dress before remembering she hadn't even really looked at it.

  Glancing down at herself, Tess fingered the skirt of the dress. Why, it was really rather pretty. A soft, mint green, sprigged with faint, violet flowers. She would have chosen the color for herself.

  Thankfully, the dress had short sleeves, and the material felt like cotton. Creases marred the dress, but when she buttoned up the bodice, the snugness smoothed out the wrinkles on the top portion.

  Good grief, it had a low neckline. Tugging on it didn't help a bit and her breasts almost spilled from the top. At least it would be cool. She dug a pair of bikini underwear from the pack, along with her right tennis shoe, and slipped them on.

  Picking up the crutches, Tess tucked them under her arms and wobbled upright.

  Whoops!

  She frowned and glanced around. It had almost felt like someone had steadied her! Shaking her head, Tess took a few, tentative steps, until she felt she had the rythmn of the crutches. Then she carefully made her way into the kitchen and toward the door. After being cooped up in that room for almost four days, she needed to get outside for a while.

  Maybe in a bit she could see what might be available to fix for a meal. Flower would probably be grateful for another woman's help in the kitchen. Wouldn't Stone be surprised that she knew how to use that wood stove?

  Tess carefully lowered herself into a rocking chair on the porch, which reminded her of the one she had sat in at Granny's. No, she realized, Stone wouldn't be surprised at that. She kept forgetting that he didn't know she was from the future. Any man in this time period would expect a woman to know the tricks of a cantankerous wood stove.

  Tess set the chair to rocking gently and stared at the hillside beyond the barn — the opposite way from where Rain and Flower had headed. It had taken her almost fifteen minutes to ride down from there on horseback. She could have hiked the distance in a little more than that, given two good feet — two good feet she didn't have.

  She leaned her head back against the chair, turning her head slightly to take advantage of a shaft of sunlight. It was so peaceful here — like back in the West Virginia mountains. She could almost imagine Granny there beside her, the creaks of the two chairs harmonizing with each other.

  Tess's eyes flew open. That wasn't another chair. Something was on the porch with her!

  Tess gripped the chair arms tightly and stilled the rocking motion. Another porch board creaked loudly. Whatever it was had to be a heck of a lot bigger than even that huge tarantula, which had moved silently across the kitchen floor — or one of the chickens in the yard. She swiveled her eyes toward the sound, but a curtain of hair blocked her view, and her tense neck and shoulder muscles refused to budge when she tried to turn her head.

  Mentally scolding heself for acting like such a ninny just because she was alone on the ranch for the first time, Tess willed her muscles to relax. Slowly she turned her head.

  Her heart melted when the bedraggled, half-grown dog belly crawled another inch forward, its tail wagging hopefully and mournful eyes begging Tess not to yell at it.

  "Oh, you poor thing! Where did you come from?"

  The tail wagged a stronger beat and the pup's head rose, its tongue hanging out in a pant.

  "Here, boy."

  Tess hung her hand over the side of the chair and clicked her fingers. The pup leaped to its feet and rushed forward, its entire body wriggling joyfully and a whine issuing from its throat. It plopped down beside the chair and leaned against it, while Tess patted its head and scratched that special place behind each ear.

  "You look half-starved, pup," Tess murmured. "You sure can't be one of Stone's animals. I wonder how you ended up here?"

  That question could wait. Right now, this poor animal needed some care. Tess shoved herself out of the chair, and the pup cocked its head to watch her.

  "Now," Tess warned, "don't get under my feet and trip me."

  The pup got up and moved a few steps away, to the other side of the door. It sat and lifted a paw, waving it up and down.

  "You silly thing," Tess said with a laugh. "You act like you can actually understand me."

  She studied the pup for a minute, but couldn't even begin to imagine what breed it might be. Matted white fur covered most of its body and burrs caked the long tail hairs. The only other color was its brown face and head, along with a brown spot on its rump. Its ribs stood out starkly beneath the fur, rising and falling with each panting breath.

  Tess struggled to the door and held it open.

  "Come on in," she said. "It'll be easier for me to feed you inside. I can't carry food out here and handle these crutches both."

  The pup bounded in the door and stretched out by the table, its muzzle on its paws and its eyes going from Tess to the stove, back again.

  "Looks like you've at least got a few manners," Tess told it. "I hope they include house breaking."

  The pup wagged its tail and gave a yip.

  Tess first dipped some water from a bucket Flower had sitting on the sink into a bowl and managed to bend down and place it on the floor. She clicked her fingers and the pup ran over, settling down to lap thirstily.

  Under a linen towel, Tess found the scraps from breakfast — three biscuits, one half-eaten, and some bacon strips. Three eggs had been on her own breakfast plate, and two of them were with the scraps. She set the entire plate down on the floor, and the dog turned its attention to it, gobbling hungrily. The food disappeared in a few gulps, and the dog looked up at her hopefully.

  "I don't know if there is anything else, fella," Tess said. "Let me look."

  Spying a loaf of bread, Tess cut off several slices, then hesitated. Oh, well. She pulled the butter dish over and smeared butter on the bread, then dropped it to the plate. It, too, disappeared quickly, but the pup must have at last been satisfied. He licked the plate a couple times, then wandered back over to stretch out by the table.

  "We need a name for you," Tess sai
d after she braced herself on the countertop and leaned down to retrieve the plate. She left the water dish on the floor and poured another cup of water into it.

  "Let's see. You've probably been out there a good while on your own, given the state of your ribs. How about Lonesome?"

  The pup yipped, in agreement, Tess decided. At least that problem was settled. And it had a full belly. It was definitely time to do something about that matted coat.

  After she went into the bedroom, Tess awkwardly smoothed out the bed, then dug a plastic-bristled brush from her pack. It would wash easily after she used it on the dog. At home, she even tossed it into the washing machine.

  "Come on, Lonesome," Tess called as she swung back through the kitchen. The pup obediently followed her onto the porch and sat down in front of the rocking chair when Tess called it over.

  "That was one thing she really missed in New York," Angela said. "Having a dog. She didn't think it was right to keep it cooped up in that apartment, what with the long hours she worked."

  "Yeah. Hope Stone lets her keep this one."

  "Why wouldn't he?"

  "Well, ranchers have to be careful about what type dog they have," Michael explained. "If a dog takes a liking to killing any of the livestock, it has to be destroyed."

  "Lonesome won't," Angela said firmly. "He didn't bother any of the chickens running loose in the yard."

  "No, he didn't," Michael agreed. "Say, how are things going out by the waterhole? Think we should go see?"

  "Oh, not me, Michael. That cow we saw earlier suffered terribly before it died."

  "Steer."

  "What?"

  "It was a steer, not a cow, Angie."

  "What's the difference?"

  Michael slowly removed his cigar stub from his mouth. "Well...well, you see, Angie. Uh...well, you know cows are female and bulls are male."

  "I know that. Oh, I see. That animal this morning didn't have a milk bag. But you called it a steer, not a bull."

  "Uh...you have noticed that Stone keeps the cows and calves in a different pasture than the rest of his cattle, haven't you?"

  "Yes, I did, now that you mention it. Why is that?"

  "The cows are used for breeding," Michael explained. "When the calves are partly grown and ready to wean, Stone culls out the male from the female calves. The males are put into a different pasture to be raised for beef. He keeps a few of the better female calves for future breeding. It only takes one good bull to breed those cows every year — at the most two, depending on what bloodline a rancher's working on developing in his cattle."

  "O.K. I can understand that part."

  "Bulls can turn into pretty mean critters, Angie. A herd of a few hundred bulls would probably spend all their time fighting each other, instead of grazing and getting fat."

  "So, how do they prevent that?"

  "Uh...well, they castrate the male calves." Michael's face blushed red. "It settles them down."

  "Castrate them? Oh, Michael, doesn't that hurt them terribly?"

  Michael's blush deepened and he groaned under his breath. Why had he even started this explanation? He shouldn't be discussing something this sensitive with Angie. She was much too innocent.

  "Michael? For pete's sake, Michael. I had to study anatomy to get my teacher's certificate — not that they ever allowed me to teach anything like that in school in my day. But we did have to teach the children a little health, especially about germs and things like that. After we found out about them ourselves, that is."

  Michael flapped his wings and shot up several feet from the cloud. Hovering for a second, he called down, "Sure you don't want to go with me? Things will be fine here, what with Lonesome to watch out for Tess."

  "You go ahead," Angela called back. "You need a break. You look like you need to fly around for a while and cool that flush on your face."

  Michael didn't wait for further permission. He whisked out of sight before Angela could even bat her eyes, and she giggled softly to herself.

  Well, now, it was a little different when the shoe was on the other foot. Evidently, there were a few things Michael could still get embarrassed about, too.

  He sure was turning into a nice companion, though. She hadn't had so much fun in years. Over a hundred years, Angie mused wonderingly. Why, not since Edward was alive had she relaxed and enjoyed herself so much with a man. Well — an angel man this time.

  ***

  Chapter 11

  Tess groggily raised her head from her arm when Lonesome whined and rose to his feet. The kerosene lantern burned low, almost out of fuel, and the kitchen lay in deep shadows. It had to be close to midnight.

  She had sent Rain and Flower to bed hours ago, then sat down at the table with a basket of mending she had found in Flower's room. One of Stone's shirts lay in her lap, and the shirt's owner walked through the kitchen door, pausing just inside to light another lantern on the wall.

  "You shouldn't still be up," Stone said in a weary voice when he turned and saw Tess. "Doc wants you to take care of that ankle."

  Lonesome growled low in his throat, and Tess quickly shushed him by laying a hand on his head.

  "What in the world is that mangy thing?"

  "He's not mangy!" Tess defended the dog. "He still needs a bath, and Rain said he'd do that tomorrow. But he's got beautiful fur."

  "Well," Stone drawled. "Is he going to let me come into my own kitchen?"

  "Probably," Tess said with a soft laugh. "If you let me introduce you to him first. He's sort of decided that it's his job to watch over the place, even if he did just arrive today."

  "That's good. Long as he's got a job to do around here, I guess he can stay. There's no room on a working ranch for a lazybones. He is a he, isn't he?"

  "Oh, yes. His name's Lonesome. Lonesome, meet Stone, the guy who's the boss even over you around here."

  Stone slowly crossed the kitchen floor and held a hand out toward the pup. "You try to remember that, will you, Lonesome? If you do, you'll be the first one."

  Lonesome glanced up at Tess, and she nodded at him. "Say hello, Lonesome."

  Lonesome sat on his haunches and lifted a paw.

  "Aw, that's cute," Stone said as he grasped the paw and shook it up and down. "You've already been teaching him tricks, huh?"

  "Not really. He just kind of does that on his own. At least with us older folks. With Rain and Flower, he just jumped all over them. He and Rain had quite a tussle until Rain gave up and let Lonesome lick his face."

  "And I'll bet he laid under the table and had scraps slipped to him all during supper," Stone said as he gave a final scratch behind one brown ear and straightened.

  "Well...Stone, you must be starving." Tess rose to her feet and reached for the crutches. "Sit down. I've kept you some food warm in the oven. Gee, I hope it isn't all dried out."

  "I can get it, Tess...."

  Tess shot him a stern look and leaned on one crutch to point a finger at the table. "Sit! You're exhausted and I've had a nap. I'll fix you a plate."

  "See what I mean about nobody remembering that I'm boss around here, Lonesome?" Stone sat down, and the pup laid its head on his knee and whined. "Yeah, it's kind of frustrating, isn't it, boy? I think you're already beginning to understand what us males have to go through."

  Giggling under her breath, Tess swung over to the stove.

  Stone absently scratched Lonesome's ears while he watched Tess. She handled herself pretty agilely on those crutches, even propping one against the countertop and using the other one while she worked.

  Doc had picked out a nice dress for her, but then Stone had been clear on the colors he felt would look good on Tess. That darned dress was just a sexy as those tight denims, though. It outlined her upper body like a second skin, and the skirt draped enticingly over her hips, swaying with her movements and drawing a man's eyes down — only serving to tantalize his mind with what all that material covered. Probably wouldn't make any difference if she'd had on petticoats.
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  Stone frowned and blinked his eyes when Tess stretched along the countertop for the butter dish. Naw, he had to be mistaken. That dress skirt had appeared to outline a skimpy pair of underpants!

  Lordy, he must be even more exhausted than he'd thought. His imagination was running rampant. He closed his eyes and leaned back on the bench, against the table.

  This was nice. He could hear Tess humming to herself at the countertop. His lips quirked. That was one little fault she had — that voice was just a hair off key. He didn't recognize the song, but he had a pretty good ear for music, and that tune didn't sound right in that faintly minor key.

  Still, it seemed to fit the mood. A quiet, late-night kitchen, with a woman bustling around almost silently, her skirts swishing softly. Some pretty darned good smelling food odors. A man's dog lying at his feet. Wonder if he could teach Lonesome to fetch his slippers?

  First he'd have to get a pair of slippers, Stone chuckled to himself. He didn't own any right now.

  "What's so funny?" Tess asked quietly from beside him.

  "Hum?" Stone kept his eyes closed, breathing in the faint wildflower scent he had begun to associate with Tess. "Oh, nothing really. I was just wondering if you'd share Lonesome with me long enough for me to teach him a trick of my own."

  Stone slit his eyelids far enough to study Tess, who stood over him, leaning on her crutches. The lantern light behind her glowed on that luxurious, silky hair.

  "What sort of trick?" Tess asked in a teasing voice.

  "To fetch my slippers," Stone admitted. "Soon as I get me a pair, that is."

  "Right now, why don't you fetch your plate? I can't carry it."

  Stone straightened and opened his eyes fully. "Will you sit with me while I eat? Have something to eat, too?"

  "Stone Chisum, I am not going to eat another bite today. But I did pour two cups of coffee."

  "Good," Stone said as he rose. "I always hate it when I come in late and have to eat alone."

  Tess settled on the bench and propped her crutches against the end of the table. Reaching behind her, she untied the strings of the bib apron Flower had given her earlier that evening to protect her new dress and pulled it over her head.