Idaho Fairytale Bride (Rocky Mountain Romances Book 2) Page 4

  “Glad to hear it, but I hope Prince didn’t get hurt in the process.”

  “Nope, he’s right as rain and so is Wilbur. And guess what? They’re friends now.” He yanked on Tex’s hand. “And you know what else?”

  “What?” Tex had a lot of things on his mind, and none of which had anything to do with the dog and a goose.

  “I need a horse.”

  “A horse?”

  “Yep, a horse. I’m going to school now and that makes me a man, and a man needs a horse.”

  “You’re six years old.”

  “That’s what I said—a man needs a horse.”

  “Son, I have to build the foundation for our house today, so how about we talk about your horse later?”

  “My horse?” Arthur jumped up and down. “Oh boy, I get a horse!” He ran back toward the Jensen house.

  Cy grinned. “You’ve got a live one on your hands.”

  “He keeps me on my toes.” Tex pulled on his gloves. “We better get busy or the lumber will be here before we get the rocks unloaded.”

  Nearly a dozen men and their families came to help. With two fresnos and two teams pulling, they dug a trench as deep as needed that would be the footprint for the house in just a few hours. Tex had never been too keen about digging, so he was happy that they only had to use shovels to square up the trench.

  By noon, both he and Morgan were satisfied that the trench would suffice as a cradle for a solid foundation—it was time to lay rocks. That was his least favorite part of building a house and Tex reckoned that the neighbors all felt the same as he did.

  Only this house was just that. A house. His parents were dear and he was happy and grateful they’d come to Idaho with him. Arthur filled his heart in a way he never knew possible before he’d had a son.

  But Tex still yearned for a woman. An intelligent lady with good wit. Beauty wouldn’t hurt his feelings, either, but character beat all other traits in importance. Moriah filled the bill except for one thing—she couldn’t stand him. He wondered what he could do to soften her up some.

  He wiped the sweat off his brow and called to the men, “Let’s eat!”

  Arthur leaned on the tiny shovel Morgan had bought for his sixth birthday. “We’re making progress, Pa.”

  The kid was growing fast and sounded so grown up. Tex couldn’t help but burst with pride at the little fellow—such a smart kid with a huge heart.

  “I’m ready,” Jonas hollered. He tossed his shovel in the wagon. “Best we wash up in the horse trough or Edith will take after us with a broom like she did that goose.”

  The crew headed to the Jensen house. Moriah fussed with the plates and silverware. When she looked up and saw the men, she called, “Ladies, you can bring out the food now.”

  Tex heard a neigh and the pounding of horses’ hooves, then the clatter of boards. He took off at a dead run toward the corral, but too late.

  Jeff, ran up beside him, both of them panting. “What happened?”

  “Mustangs stole Miss Jensen’s mare.”

  Chapter 6

  Moriah directed the neighbor ladies as they brought food out to the long makeshift table that she’d made. She’d just fetched a pan of hot rolls when she heard her horse make a ruckus—the mare had been restless lately as it was, but the noise was a whole lot more than that. Wood splintered and several horses neighed—and all the Jensen horses were on Tex’s building site.

  “Oh, no!” A mustang stallion and a band of wild horses ran along the corral fence and back, snorting and pawing, shaking the ground beneath Moriah, even from across the barnyard. The stallion kicked at the fence boards. One fell. And another.

  Compass whinnied and ran along the inside of the fence beside him. Apparently even lady horses lost all their sense when a handsome knight came to the rescue. But Moriah couldn’t let her go.

  She had no doubt that nothing would keep the stud from her mare now that he’d caught her scent, other than maybe a big fright. On the off chance Moriah could scare him and his partying buddies off, she ran toward the wild horses hollering her lungs out.

  The milling horses kicked up a frightful cloud of alkali dust but she kept running. Just before she got to the corral, a strong arm hooked around her waist.

  “Don’t get any closer, Miss Jensen,” Tex said. He set her back a proper distance away. “Oh, I see you brought rolls.”

  “That mustang is stealing my horse!” She shoved the pan into his hands, irritated that his touch had thrown her off kilter when she knew better than to give a man like him the time of day. “I have to do something.”

  The stallion broke down the last fence board and Compass took off with him and the rest of the band.

  “My papa bred and trained that mare.” A tear escaped down her cheek even though she blinked to keep from crying. She didn’t want Tex to see her so undone, but her lip trembled and it seemed like someone had wrapped a tourniquet around her throat. “She’s the last thing he ever gave to me.”

  “We’ll get her back.” He tore off the corner roll and ate a fourth of it in one bite. “Jeff, go saddle our horses—glad we left them in the stalls today. I’ll go talk to Pa and gather up some supplies.” He took a couple more rolls and handed the pan back to Moriah. “We’ll ride in ten minutes.”

  She stood in the settling dust, holding the pan, and wondering what she should do. The horse belonged to her—she should go fetch it. But then, as schoolteacher, she could only ride sidesaddle, and wrangling a mare away from a mustang stallion definitely would not be considered fitting behavior.

  With one last glance at the broken fence, she turned and headed back to the house. Tex would need food and water to take with him. If she helped, that ought to hurry him up some.

  At the house, all the men had gathered around Tex and Morgan.

  “Pa has the house plans and he’s more experienced at foundation work than I am, anyhow, so take his advice. With luck, I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  Several of the men wished him good luck and clapped him on the shoulder, then went to the table now swaying with food. He seemed to command respect that newcomers rarely received so soon after their arrival.

  “I want to go!” Arthur complained to his father.

  “When you’re older, son.” Tex picked up the boy and gave him a hug. “Mind your manners, and protect the ladies while I’m gone. You’re the man of the house while your grandpa is working.”

  Arthur puffed up his chest. “They’re safe with me, Pa.”

  “Atta boy.” Tex ruffled his son’s hair.

  The boy’s face glowed with admiration for his father—Moriah saw it. Anyone could see the love between father and son.

  It was the stuff of Moriah’s fantasies. The handsome man, the handsome son, love surrounding the family.

  But for her, the fairytale ended right there.

  * * *

  Tex looped twine that closed the bag of food over his shoulder and walked to the barn. Pa came along with him.

  “You don’t have to fetch that mare. You could send a couple of the other men.”

  “Yes, I do have to go. I saw those weak boards a few days back—should’ve fixed them then. And that very spot is where the stallion chose to bust down the fence, which is why I have to go, Pa. It’s all my responsibility, for if I had fixed that fence when I should’ve this never would’ve happened.”

  “I think you’re being a little hard on yourself. But if returning the mare to Miss Jensen clears your conscience, then that’s the best thing to do.”

  “Ah, you should’ve seen Miss Jensen—she was heartbroken. She said Compass was the last gift her father had ever given her, so the mare isn’t just a horse—much more special. And it’s my fault the mare’s gone.”

  Jeff had wanted to ride along and Tex consented. Morgan helped Jeff saddle up, and he also filled two canteens for each of his sons while Tex and Jeff packed up their bedrolls and warbags.

  Prince barked and hopped around, anxious to go, bu
t Tex didn’t want the dog along lest he interfere with catching the mare. After all, Prince was a bird dog, not a herding dog.

  “You stay here, Prince.” To Morgan, he said, “Pa, would you keep the dog in the barn until we’re out of sight?”

  “Will do.” He kneeled and held the dog around his chest and neck. “Might take some doing, but I’ll keep him here. You boys be careful. I don’t know a thing about mustangs but I do know they’re wild animals, and I know that any male with the scent of the female in heat is unpredictable.”

  He had that right, Tex thought, with a vision of Moriah invading his mind. Or Miss Jensen—he had to think of her as Miss Jensen bein’s she was a schoolteacher and all.

  “We will, Pa. I’ve rounded up mustangs before.”

  “I know you have, but Jeff hasn’t.” He waggled his finger at Jeff. “You pay attention to everything your older brother says, for this is man’s work and you’re doing a man’s job.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jeff said lazily as if he had heard it a thousand times before. Tex just shook his head, remembering what it was like to be twelve years old and full of himself.

  As they rode out, Forrest Gardner hollered, “Wait for me, I want to go.”

  Cy grabbed his son by the back of the boy’s suspenders. “No you don’t. I need you to stay here and help do what we came out here for—build that foundation. Morgan says it needs to cure for a week before we can have the house raising and that means all the rocks need to be placed and mortared today. Cold weather will set in and the Dillons need a place to live. You need to think these things through.”

  Jeff hid his smirk from Cy, obviously wanting his friend to go along. Tex was glad Cy didn’t let his son go lest Tex end up playing nursemaid to two young greenhorns.

  Finally, he and Jeff left the barnyard. “The horses have a half an hour head start on us, but they left us easy sign to follow as long as we don’t let the trail grow too cold.”

  “Will we have to rope the horses?” Jeff asked.

  “Likely we’ll have to rope the mare and drag her away from the stallion. It’d be best if you could rope her, then I’ll rope the stud, for he’s stronger and Dancer is bigger and more experienced than your horse—more able to control the stallion.”

  “Why did you name him Dancer?”

  “When I was starting him, he wanted to go sideways more than front ways.” He patted the bay’s neck. “But he turned out to be a right fine mount—good enough cutter, too, even though he hasn’t worked cows that much.”

  “But, um…”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know how to rope.”

  Tex had been roping for fifteen years so he hadn’t even thought about his brother not knowing how. “Glad you told me ahead of time, for now we can plan another way of doing things. Once we find the horses, then we’ll watch them for a while and make a plan. But you have to remember to be quiet and always stay downwind, for if that stallion gets one whiff of us, he’ll be off running faster than a rifle shot, and he’ll take his mares with him.”

  They rode all afternoon and into the evening, trailing the herd. Tex had heard a few neighs but the herd was always just ahead.

  “Why are we going so slow?” Jeff complained. “We could catch up to them easy enough.”

  “Sure, we could—and spook them. Once they’re spooked, we might as well go back emptyhanded. They can run like the wind.”

  “My horse can run fast.”

  “You have to remember that the mustangs aren’t carrying a saddle and a rider. Besides, they know every canyon and all the best places to hide. This is their territory, not ours.”

  “Are we gonna camp, then?”

  “Looks like it. We best keep an eye out for a creek.” He’d hoped they’d be back to the ranch before dusk, but even if they had caught the mare already, riding in the dark was foolhardy. “We’ll be sleeping on the ground tonight.”

  Jeff didn’t seem at all put off by that. “That’s why we brought the bedrolls and warbags!”

  Tex far preferred a nice featherbed, but he knew Jeff would have to spend a few nights with rocks poking in his back before he agreed.

  * * *

  Moriah had peeked through the curtains a hundred times during the afternoon to see if Tex had come back with Compass. Now that the sun had set, she knew she’d have to wait until morning, if even then, to see whether he’d been successful.

  Her mother shook out the dish towel and draped it over the rack to dry. “I’m so excited about our literary society. What a good idea you had.”

  “Thank you. I reckon if the adults enjoy reading, the children will as well. That’s why I want to include dime novels and serial stories in magazines. Reading is reading.”

  “I have to admit that a good dime novel is an enjoyable way to while away the evening. I like a good detective story, and stories about women even though I’m well aware they could never be true.”

  Moriah agreed. “It’s important to be exposed to all types of literature, but I must admit, I do favor a dime novel now and then.”

  “I like Mark Twain’s books, too.”

  “The older students will be reading The Adventures of Tom Sawyer in class. If we get through that, we might read Huckleberry Finn, too.”

  “Lucky class. Your students will be grateful someday.”

  “I just need to find some way to light a fire under Jeff Dillon and Forrest Gardner. They’re both such bright young men, but I have a feeling that Jeff has little patience for schoolwork.”

  “Part of it’s their age, but I have the feeling Jeff didn’t want to leave his home in Texas.”

  “Do you know why they moved here?” Moriah asked. “They talk as if they had quite a successful business in Tyler.”

  “I don’t, but I get the impression from Grace that it was Tex’s idea—he’s the one who bought the place, not Morgan.”

  Moriah heard someone step up onto the porch.

  “Hello, the house!” It was Grace’s voice.

  Edith opened the door. “Come in. I thought you’d be in bed by now after the day we had.”

  Grace wrung her hands. “Arthur’s missing, and so is Prince!”

  Chapter 7

  “Morgan’s out looking for Arthur, but I couldn’t just sit there in the barn waiting.”

  Edith poured a cup of tea and handed it to her. “Sit down and tell us when you last saw him.”

  “He was tuckered, so I washed him up, fed him a cookie, and sent him to bed not more than an hour ago. Then when we were ready to retire, I went in and checked on him—and his bed was empty.” She pursed her lips and blinked her eyes, likely trying her best not to cry.

  “Was Prince with him?”

  “He was. Those two are inseparable. I’m not fond of dogs in the house but, well, we live in your barn so I guess it’s all right. Prince and Arthur fell right to sleep—but now they’re gone!”

  “Did you look in the loft?”

  “We did, but not all that thoroughly. Prince can’t climb the ladder and I reckon if we find the dog, we’ll find Arthur, too.”

  Moriah wondered if the boy had run away, but he didn’t seem at all put off by his new home. Maybe he followed his father, though. Arthur was just feisty enough to do that. She fetched two lanterns.

  “You and Mama go search by your new house site. I’ll check the shed and the springhouse.” She handed one lantern to her mother. “They couldn’t have gone far. Maybe we can find some tracks.”

  “I’ll do anything,” Grace murmured as she followed Edith out of the house. “I just pray we find him soon.”

  At that moment, Moriah realized she didn’t know a thing about the Dillons other than Morgan and Tex were carpenters and Tex had bought her family ranchland. What was their background? Could they have brought trouble with them?

  She mostly dismissed the thought. The Dillons were nice folks and hardworking, too. She could tell a lot about families by their children, and Arthur, despite his current disappe
arance, was a healthy, happy little boy. Tex had earned the local men’s respect already, and that rarely happened in such a short time. Plus, animals—except for Wilbur—liked him.

  So she’d be better off thinking like a six-year-old. Why would he have gotten out of bed? Once she figured that out, likely she could find him.

  The flickering lantern light didn’t help much as far as finding track in the dark. She went to the barn door first and studied the ground for paw tracks, for they’d be easier to spot than footprints. But not one piece of luck.

  Maybe he went on an adventure. That thought led her to wondering if maybe he was trying to find Compass—he’d wanted to ride with his pa and had begged to go. Or for that matter, maybe he just went fishing. He’d gone with the men to fetch rocks from the creek several times that day.

  But before she scoured the creek bank, she’d make a tour of the haystacks and all the outbuildings. He could be anywhere.

  First, she checked the two haystacks, for that would be a good place to sleep. But he wasn’t there. She even climbed clear to the tops after she’d walked the entire perimeters of both.

  Then Moriah made for the shed, which was the closest building to the barn. Along the way, she passed the pig sty. The sow’s eyes shined in the lantern light, and the mama of a dozen piglets didn’t look happy to be aroused at such an hour, especially when her babies woke up and decided to have a snack.

  “Sorry, Petunia.” Moriah hurried on to the shed.

  As she opened the door a bat swooped out at her, barely missing her hair. She yelped. And shuddered. Then she squared up her chin, and, after holding the lantern so she could see the whole of the interior of the small building, took a hesitant step inside.

  “Get a hold of yourself, you ninny,” she muttered, still shaking. “Arthur,” she called. “Are you in here?”

  All she heard in response was an unwelcome silence. Even the bat was better.

  The closest building to the shed was the springhouse, so she headed for it. And while there, she could check Arthur’s favorite fishing hole. This time, she checked for bats before she opened the door.

  But no Arthur.