Coming From California (The Pioneer Brides 0f Rattlesnake Ridge Book 2) Page 3

  Barb’s full, rich laughter sounded out as they entered the dining room, making all eyes turn to them. Including the teasing eyes of the handsome cowboy who’d called up to Daisy’s window earlier that afternoon.

  “Oh, no,” she said under her breath, but for the sake of the two children holding onto her hands—and her own dignity—she didn’t turn tail and flee. Instead, she put steel into her spine and followed Barb, realizing too late that the other woman was heading for the table where the cowboy and his tall friend were just rising to their feet.

  “Luke Rockford, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” Barb leaned in to kiss his cheek.

  He kissed hers in return. “Dear Barb, you get prettier and prettier every year, I swear.”

  She laughed at him fondly before turning to Daisy. “This reprobate is Luke Rockford; he and I grew up neighbors. Luke, this is Miss Daisy, Rattlesnake Ridge’s new schoolmarm.”

  There was absolutely nothing Daisy could do but smile and say, “Pleased to meet you,” while sending up silent prayers to the Almighty that Mr. Rockford didn’t make any remarks about her waving her petticoat out of her window. Or for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. Either one would be fine, she thought.

  A strong, sun-browned hand took hers, and he bowed over it, his deep blue eyes glinting with mirth as he responded, “It’s very nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Daisy.” And then he spoiled it by saying, “Have we met somewhere before? You look kinda familiar.”

  Her fingers itched to slap the cheeky smirk off his handsome face, but instead she firmly withdrew her hand from his and said in her best reproving schoolmarm voice, “I’d remember if we had, Mr. Rockford.”

  Barb’s eyes flitted between Mr. Rockford and Daisy; she opened her mouth when Mr. Rockford’s friend cut in. “I’m Jack Hollis, Miss Daisy. Didn’t grow up in Rattlesnake Ridge like these two, but I’m sure glad to hear the town now has a proper schoolmarm.”

  Relieved, Daisy turned her attention to him, looking way up to meet his eyes, and offered her hand to shake. “Do you have children, Mr. Hollis?”

  “Not yet, miss. Ain’t married.” He ducked his head and smiled shyly, the long scar on his chin pulling it crooked in a way which wasn’t unappealing. Daisy didn’t miss the way his gaze slid to Barb as he said with a wistful note in his voice, “Mebbe one day.”

  “No doubt they will all tower over me by the age of ten, and I shall have great trouble keeping them in check,” Daisy teased, making him chuckle deeply.

  “Mebbe so, Miss Daisy, but I hope I’d’ve taught them better manners than to give their teacher any cheek.”

  There wasn’t any time to say more, because a door at the back of the room opened and Miz May entered followed by a smiling black man with graying hair, though there were no lines on his face, and a middle aged black woman with twinkling eyes. She carried a large dish of rolls while he ferried a large pan from which the most delicious scent emanated.

  Daisy hadn’t eaten anything at all since before dawn, and her stomach promptly let out an embarrassing rumble.

  Luke Rockford evidently heard it, because his eyes twinkled at her again and he said, “I know just how you feel, Miss Daisy. The smell of Matthew’s cooking always has that effect on me, too. He’s only helping out until Miz May finds a new cook; her last one up and married the sheriff on her.”

  Daisy nodded in understanding, just hoping her stomach didn’t make any more noises. Any louder and the whole room would hear!

  “Can we sit with you, Uncle Luke?” Ishmael tugged at his shirtsleeve. At Mr. Rockford’s nod Barb and the twins took seats. Mr. Rockford smirked at Daisy and she clenched her jaw, thinking that she would rather sit almost anywhere else. But she wouldn’t insult Barb, so she had little choice. Grandiosely, Mr. Rockford gestured at the last remaining seat at the table, between him and Mr. Hollis.

  Once again, she debated slapping the smirk off his face. But then—at least he was looking at her face. He’d kept his eyes on hers through the entire interaction, actually, which was a pleasant change from how men often talked to her. Mr. Hollis had done the same, and for that she was prepared to be forgiving.

  At least, as long as the word petticoat never slipped through Mr. Rockford’s attractively-shaped, firm lips.

  Dear Lord, Daisy, stop looking at his lips, you fool girl!

  Bowls full of deliciously savory-smelling stew were ladled out and passed around, followed by crusty rolls still warm from baking. Daisy was sure her mouth was watering. Her stomach rumbled again, but she honestly didn’t care that much.

  “Before we begin,” Miz May’s calm voice cut the chatter in the room to dead silence, “I’d like to welcome Miss Daisy to our midst, Rattlesnake Ridge’s first schoolteacher.”

  “Welcome, Miss Daisy!” a score of voices chorused in cheerful unison, and she fought to suppress her blush.

  “Would you say grace for us, Miss Daisy?” Isabelle piped up.

  Seeing the expressions of the hungry folk around her, Daisy thought she’d better make it quick. Rising to her feet, she smiled around generally and said, “Thank you for that lovely welcome, folks. I look forward to getting to know you all. Yes, Isabelle, I’d be honored to say grace.” Folding her hands, she said, “We give Thee thanks, O Lord, for Thy bounty which we are blessed to receive. Amen.”

  She caught Miz May’s approving nod and Barb’s grin as a chorus of hasty Amens followed, and there was a clatter of spoons being lifted.

  “That was a nice quick one,” Mr. Rockford complimented.

  “I’m too hungry for anything else,” she admitted sheepishly. “I was worried my stomach was going to rumble again while I was speaking and spoil the moment.”

  He chuckled warmly, and Daisy hated herself for feeling her heart give a little flutter.

  Stop it, she told herself sternly. He’s rude and uncouth and certainly not the first handsome man ever to pay attention to you. Looking away, she was determined to concentrate on her dinner. It was well worth concentrating on; the stew was some of the best she had ever tasted, and the bread was absolutely wonderful. Even the presence of Mr. Rockford, eating beside her with better table manners than she’d expected, couldn’t dim her enjoyment of the food. She happily passed her bowl for a second helping.

  “Matthew’s the best cook in town,” Mr. Rockford stated as she chased up the last couple of peas in gravy from the bottom of the bowl. “He and his wife run the bakery.”

  “That explains why those rolls were so good. Does he cook here every night?” Daisy asked.

  “He does at the moment, and it’s always this good. Hey, Matthew!” Mr. Rockford called, and the cook glanced up from his conversation with May and came over to be introduced.

  “Good to see you again, Luke.” He shared a rough handclasp with Mr. Rockford before smiling at Daisy. “And a pleasure to meet you, Miss Daisy.”

  “You too, Matthew.”

  He gave her a courteous nod before putting a strong hand on Mr. Rockford’s shoulder. “Heard you and Jack didn’t get paid yet, that right?”

  “Yes, but it’s okay, we just have to wait until tomorrow for Garrett himself to authorize the money,” Mr. Rockford shrugged. “He wasn’t in the bank today.”

  Matthew shook his head. “Not okay, everyone knew you were due in. Garrett’s playing games.”

  “It ain’t his money. It’s Mr. Simpson’s money, or ours, and he’s got no right to refuse it to us.” Mr. Hollis’s lips firmed. “We’ll get it tomorrow.”

  “Whether you do or not, you don’t need no money at my bakery, or to eat and sleep here. You know that. Cynthia and I didn’t follow you here all the way from Tennessee to watch you starve.” Matthew looked at Daisy, who had been listening to the conversation with bemusement. “Don’t you let his rough ways put you off, Miss Daisy. This man was a hero of the Union, and I owe him my life.”

  She was astonished to see red stain Mr. Rockford’s sharply carved cheekbones.

  “Did you by an
y chance make apple cobbler?” He was very obviously changing the subject.

  “Started it the moment I heard you and Sergeant Hollis were back in town, Captain.” Matthew grinned and headed out, presumably returning to his table.

  “Captain?” Daisy asked, a little startled.

  Mr. Rockford ducked his head, avoiding her eyes. “I was a deputy sheriff before I joined the army. Experienced men were made officers.”

  “And those who turned out to be good at leading men and winning battles got promoted with medals pinned on their chests,” Mr. Hollis put in dryly. “He’ll talk himself down, Miss Daisy, but there were a fair few generals in the Confederate Army cursin’ Luke Rockford’s name. Matthew ain’t the only one who owes him a life debt, neither.”

  “Shut your trap, Hollis.” Mr. Rockford’s face was distinctly red now.

  Daisy wanted to ask why a heroic former Captain of the Union Army was now a cowboy in a remote Nevada town, but she had the feeling the whole subject was somewhat raw. I’m not really interested anyway, she told herself. Really.

  “Has anyone offered to show you around?” Mr. Hollis asked.

  “Not yet; I only arrived today.”

  “Then I suggest Luke show you across to the saloon—most everyone’s there and they’ll all want to meet you—while I take these two scamps to Phillip Jr.’s.”

  Unable to come up with a good excuse to say no, Daisy agreed. All the while, she tried to ignore the way her heart was flip-flopping in anticipation.

  Chapter 4

  Locking the stairway door behind her, Daisy headed outside. When she got there, she couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Jack Hollis with one Jones twin sitting on each broad shoulder. Isabelle grinned at her while Ishmael, wearing Hollis’s cowboy hat, peeked out under the brim.

  Next to them, Luke Rockford leaned negligently against the side of the porch chuckling at his partner’s antics. His eyes found hers at the sound of her laugh. The sun and weather-beaten skin crinkled at the corners as he moved forward to gallantly offer her his arm. “Miss Daisy.”

  She could hardly refuse to take the proffered arm without seeming rude, so she grudgingly put her hand on it. As she did so, it occurred to her that this was actually a fortuitous opportunity to speak to him privately.

  “Mr. Rockford,” she said, keeping her voice low so that the twins wouldn’t overhear, “I must ask you to please not mention you saw me airing my clothes at the window.”

  He grinned. “That what you’re calling it? Easy, don’t get mad at me now,” he continued in a gentler tone as she flushed angrily. “I wouldn’t do such a thing, Miss Daisy. I know how important your reputation is as the town’s schoolmarm. Neither Jack nor I will breathe a word, I promise. We might be just a pair of mannerless cowboys but our word is as good as gold.”

  “Thank you,” she muttered.

  “You’re welcome.” He seemed to be considering his words before he added, “You were the first woman I’d laid eyes on in almost four months. Even if you weren’t, you’d still be a sight for sore eyes, Miss Daisy. While I’m sure a great many men have paid you prettier compliments than that, I stand by what I said.”

  Mr. Rockford wasn’t wrong. Men had. She’d been told she was beautiful more times than she could remember and had learned to live with men’s eyes following her around since she was barely in her teens. Still, somehow this clumsy compliment from a rough-and-ready cowboy had her cheeks flushing again, this time with embarrassment rather than annoyance.

  They reached the bottom of a wooden staircase around the back of the saloon. Mr. Hollis lifted the twins down from his shoulders, and they scampered up the stairs. Mr. Hollis just managed to grab his hat before Ishmael took off with it.

  “See y’all later,” Mr. Hollis nodded to them before following the twins up the stairs.

  Once Mr. Hollis had left with the children, she turned to face Mr. Rockford. “Thank you for agreeing to show me around.”

  “If Jack hadn’t volunteered me, I’d have volunteered myself. It’s an honor to escort you.”

  The more she saw of Luke Rockford, the more of a puzzle he was. “Still, thank you. To be honest, I’m not sure I could have walked around on my own yet. I’m not that brave.”

  “You’ve come all the way from California to be a schoolteacher to this town’s children, here in a place where you don’t know a soul. I think you’re plenty brave, Miss Daisy.”

  She found her cheeks were flushing and was glad the sun had set so he couldn’t see her pink face. “Well, that sure is something to hear from a hero of the war, Mr. Rockford.”

  “Don’t you listen to what Jack says now.” He sounded bashful... almost. “He likes to talk me up some.”

  “He wasn’t the only one though, was he?” She cocked her head at him. “Matthew said you saved his life too.”

  He smiled at that. “A fine man, is Matthew. I didn’t approve of slavery before I ever met anyone who’d been a slave, and after meeting Matthew and his wife I was even more set against it.” He turned his head, and his eyes seemed to be laughing. She just knew he was about to make another joke to cover his embarrassment over being called a hero. “After I tasted his cooking, I knew he was destined to be my friend. He says he followed me here, but the truth is, I talked him into it. Couldn’t live without that apple cobbler!”

  “He’s certainly an excellent baker.” Privately, she was more curious about Luke Rockford than ever. Perhaps Matthew would be willing to tell her the real story.

  They reached the swinging double doors of the saloon, and he reached out his free arm to push one of them open. Daisy could hear music and chatter from inside, but it wasn’t overly loud. Definitely much more subdued than she expected from a saloon. No bawdy songs or shouting drunkards.

  The hubbub quieted more as the doors opened and she entered on Luke Rockford’s arm. Across the room she saw Mr. Dobson standing behind a wooden bar with bottles lined up on a shelf behind him. He gave her a friendly smile and a wave. She returned it shyly as unfamiliar faces stared at her with undisguised curiosity.

  “Let me introduce you to Mr. Winthrop, Miss Daisy,” Mr. Rockford said, and she took a deep breath, mentally girding herself for an all-out charm offensive. He led her to a table with several chairs set around it; chairs scraped out as men stood, and they all vacated the table save for one, a brown-haired man, tallish, and younger than Daisy had expected.

  “Mayor Winthrop, Miss Daisy Jackson,” Mr. Rockford introduced.

  Winthrop smiled, the creases around his eyes deepening. “It’s a pleasure, Miss Daisy, and I’m glad you’ve arrived safely.”

  “Delighted to meet you too, sir.” Daisy shook hands with the brown-haired man, feeling the calluses in his grip which told her he wasn’t the sort of man who let other people do all the hard work. “And do you have any children I will be schooling?”

  “My daughter Rosie’s but four,” Mr. Winthrop answered. “She’ll be at school soon enough, but not just yet.”

  “I look forward to meeting her.” Daisy smiled nervously. Jacob Winthrop was a powerful man in the town, head of the town council. The Mayor of Rattlesnake Ridge. He was the one who’d offered her the position as schoolmarm. He would have a direct say in whether she stayed or was sent back, and right now he was gazing at her with a decidedly critical eye.

  “You’re younger than I expected,” he said, “but I dare say you’ll do well enough.”

  Daisy stared at Mr. Winthrop in disbelief. “That’s it?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking. “You’re not going to send me back?”

  Mayor Winthrop gave a harsh little laugh and shook his head. “Miss Daisy, you were the only applicant for the position. I was delighted someone with your qualifications would even consider leaving the city and coming out here. If I sent you back, we could wait months to find someone else, not to mention the expense of placing another advertisement. So, unless you give me a good reason to fire you, the job’s yours.”

  Mr.
Winthrop wasn’t much older than she was, probably around thirty, though grief and care had worn lines around eyes which belonged on an older man. Still, she couldn’t believe it was as easy as being accepted on his say-so. “Your letter did say I’d need to be confirmed in the position by the town council...”

  “I don’t see that as a problem, Miss Daisy.” The crinkles at the corners of Mr. Winthrop’s eyes deepened as he smiled, and she suddenly realized he was quite handsome. “There are seven of us; you have my vote, and my friend Moss is the chief engineer at the Michigan Queen and only a couple of years older than you, I’d say. He certainly doesn’t hold with not giving folks a chance because of their circumstances. You’ve already met Mr. Dobson.” A nod of his head indicated the saloon owner. “He just wants someone to teach that bright lad of his. Barrett Wright and I don’t always see eye to eye, but he’s got three sons who want schooling too. Our preacher Reverend Brown is the kind to give anyone a chance to prove themselves, so you’ll certainly have his vote. And all that’s before you’ve even met Mr. Langhorne, our newspaper man.”

  A certain note of irritation entered Mr. Winthrop’s voice at the last name. Luke Rockford hid a chuckle.

  “Mr. Langhorne?” Daisy queried.

  “I just heard my name!” a cheerful voice cried. “And from the lips of our beautiful new schoolteacher!”

  Elbows flying to push others from his path, a redheaded man of middling height and middling age shoved his way to their table. Everything about him seemed to bristle with energy, from his wiry red hair and untidy mustache to his sparkling blue eyes. Ink stained his fingertips, and Daisy could see at least two pencils poking from his shirt pocket.

  “Our newspaper man,” Mayor Winthrop repeated unnecessarily. Daisy had already deduced the gentleman’s profession for herself. Rising, she allowed Langhorne to take her hand and bow over it.