Chapter Nine
Spring spent the morning mucking out the stable. Her horses were out in the grassy pasture enjoying the partially sunny day and the sunshine. The air was humid, and she wondered if rain might be on the way later. Not worrying over it, she finished the work, put away the pitchfork and shovel, and walked outside. Paint, her two-year-old brown-and-white palomino, came racing to her side and nuzzled the pocket of her jacket.
“You just ate, remember?” she said, rubbing his neck affectionately. “No treats, and there’ll be no carrots until I plant.”
Paint kept up the nuzzling, which soon turned into playful bumping. Spring laughed as she tried to set her feet and not fall over. “Stop, silly!” Set on his fun, he kept it up. “Stop!” shescolded, laughing. “If you put me on my butt, you’ll never get carrots again for as long as you live.” The mares Lady and Sunrise watched silently. Stallion Cheyenne viewed the scene with kinglike disinterest from across the yard and she called to him, “Come and get your little brother.”
The stallion of course ignored her and instead, lowered his head to drink from the water in the trough. Paint bumped her a few more times, almost succeeding in putting her on the ground, then raced away.
Shaking her head at his antics, she called out to Lady, who would help her with the next item on the day’s list of chores. Cheyenne refused to be hitched to a wagon. It was as if he found such toil beneath his station as ruler. Lady on the other hand didn’t seem to mind. She was a beautiful red-coated bay with a shiny black mane and tail, and strong black legs and matching hooves. Once Spring had her hitched, she called to Cheyenne. “I’ll be back in a little while. Going to put Paint in the stable so he doesn’t eat the cabin while I’m gone.”
Cheyenne glanced over at Paint, who made a point of avoiding his gaze. Paint spent the first year of his life taking bites out of everything he came in contact with, from the woodon the cabin and the fences, to everything in Spring’s garden. Returning from town one day, she found he’d jumped the garden’s wire fencing and turned the newly emerging vegetables into his personal buffet. He’d eaten the tops of all the carrots, beets, and then all the beans and tomato plants. He paid for his greediness later that evening and was stomach sick for the next two days. Now a year older she hoped he was no longer bite happy, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She walked him to the barn, put him in his stall, and locked his chest-high gate. “I’ll let you out when I get back. You can’t have my place for lunch, and if someone comes along and wants to steal you, Cheyenne will probably help them saddle you up. I don’t want to lose you.”
He stuck his painted face against her and whinnied.
“Be back soon.” She gave him a hug and left the barn.
With Lady pulling the wagon, Spring took a slow drive around her property to check for damage left by the months of winter weather. McCray was also on her mind. She let herself admit to looking forward to having him back for dinner, and what might come after. Last night had not been enough. A couple of oldertrees had been downed by the storms, so she used an ax to chop the trunks into manageable rounds then struggled to place the heavy pieces into the bed of the wagon. The process took a while. Once she caught her breath and used a bandanna to mop up the sweat on her face and neck, she drove the wagon home. The unloading was just as arduous. After wiping her brow again, taking a few drags of water from her canteen, she let her arms rest for a few moments to free Paint and unhitch Lady. Once that was done, she picked up the ax again. The wood would be used for firewood later in the year. In the middle of the task, she spotted a buggy coming her way. Its occupants were Avery Jarvis, his business partner, and the young woman she’d seen the other day but had yet to be introduced to. Hoping they were just passing by, she resumed filling the air with the ring of the ax. When the buggy stopped and Jarvis and the others got out and approached, she snarled quietly.
“Afternoon, Miss Lee,” Jarvis said. He was wearing a dark brown suit with matching vest over his white shirt, and a brown striped tie.
She brought the ax down on a log. It split and she pulled the ax free. “What can I do for you, Jarvis?”
“Thought I’d introduce you to my daughter, Hazel.”
Spring eyed the woman. Dressed as finely as Glenda Cale in a pale gray walking ensemble and a fashionable little hat, Hazel gave Spring a quick nod.
“Hello,” Spring said.
Jarvis continued, “And my secretary, Leland Swan.”
“Miss Lee,” Swan said, eyeing her distastefully.
“Mr. Swan.” He was younger than Jarvis, also taller and leaner. She didn’t know why he seemed so put out, but she didn’t care. Wanting to get to the reason they’d stopped, she asked, “Lost again?” She saw her horses watching.
Jarvis smiled. “No. I came to inquire about the possibility of buying the land you own by the river. The parcel that used to belong to Matt Ketchum. I plan to open a mill. The one owned by Porter James is old and dated.”
She resumed chopping. “It’s not for sale.”
“Suppose I make you a generous offer.”
She brought the ax down again with such force, Hazel jumped. Spring worked the blade free. “Suppose you understand what I said. It isn’t for sale.”
“A woman alone can always use more money.”
She almost asked him what he knew about a woman alone. His refusal to hear her was proof he was accustomed to getting his way, but so was she, and saw no need to argue or repeat herself. She addressed his companions. “Hazel, Mr. Leland. It was nice meeting you. Have a good afternoon, Mr. Jarvis.” She turned to go up to the house. She’d finish chopping later.
Jarvis snapped, “Don’t you dare walk away from me.”
She stopped and asked quietly. “Or what? I’m carrying an ax and wearing a gun belt. What do you have to stop me besides your temper and a loud voice?”
She watched a smile curve Hazel’s mouth before it quickly disappeared.
Her father’s lips tightened. “I’m offering you good money for land Ketchum said you stole.”
“Stole? When Matt Ketchum says it’s raining, folks know to get up and go look for themselves. You should do the same.”
He studied her as if assessing her mettle. “This is not the end,” he finally promised.