Pony Express Special Delivery

“To start with, you can call me Clayton.” Clayton extended his hand.

Gus took it and squeezed hard, then released Clayton’s hand. “We’re kind of busy here, Clayton.” He indicated the fence behind him.

Clayton nodded. “I can see that.” He paused until he had the man’s full attention then asked, “Did you know that Mrs. Fillmore had the baby last night?”

“Nope.” Gus motioned for the other cowboy to get back to working on the fence. “Maggie’s family ways are no concern of mine.”

“That so?” Clayton watched as the two men returned to their work. How could Gus not think that his boss having a baby didn’t concern him? And since they had the same last name, Clayton knew they were kin by marriage, so why didn’t Jack’s relative care about his wife?

“Yep. This ranch is my only concern.” He grunted as he lifted a log into place.

Clayton shifted in the saddle. “What if she’d had complications?”

Gus turned to eye him. “You a doctor or something?”

“Not today. But I am concerned that no one was around when Maggie was having her baby.”

Gus snorted rudely. “Look, Young. My job is to run the ranch, yours is to run the Pony Express, and Maggie is none of our concern.”

“I see. So, if she had died in childbirth?”

Gus shrugged and then spit. “Then we would have buried her and continued on with the running of this ranch.” He locked eyes with Clayton. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a job to do.”

Clayton nodded. He turned the horse back toward the ranch house. Gus Fillmore had made it clear he didn’t care what happened to Maggie but that he did care about what happened to the ranch. If Maggie had died giving birth to baby James, would Gus have claimed the ranch as his? Clayton was pretty sure the callous, uncaring man would have done just that.

Clayton thought about the situation at the ranch. His concerns for Maggie and the children’s welfare grew. He couldn’t help but wonder if Gus had deliberately made sure no one would be around when Maggie went into labor. Had the man been hoping she’d die giving birth?

* * *

Maggie moved slowly about the kitchen. Coming down the stairs had taken much longer than ever before. She’d not expected to be quite this sore after having the baby.

“You all right?” Dinah asked. Worry etched her little face.

Maggie smiled at her little sister. “I’m fine. I just had a baby and I’m still a little sore.”

“Oh.” Dinah climbed up on one of the chairs at the table. “Are you sure you can make bread?”

Maggie nodded. “It’s bread-baking day. I can do it.” She wrapped James tightly in a blanket and laid him in an oval washtub on the table in front of Dinah. “Keep an eye on the baby. If he wakes up tell me, all right?”

Dinah stood up on the seat. “I’ll watch him real good, Sissy.”

Her smile widened at the seriousness in Dinah’s voice. “I know you will, sweetie. Thank you.” She walked to the cabinet and pulled out a tin of beans. “Here, Dinah, why don’t you make sets of five beans? Be sure and pull out all the rocks and dirt clods.”

“All right, Sissy. I like playing with the beans.” Dinah took them and began sorting them. It seemed she’d decided to separate them by color and size today.

Maggie grinned, happy that Dinah was unaware she was learning how to count and doing a simple chore at the same time. Grabbing a tin scoop, she heaped flour along with two generous pinches of salt into a large creamware bowl. Maggie then pressed her fingers into the mound of flour mixture and dug out a hole. After brushing her hands on her apron, she reached into the pie safe and pinched off a corner of yeast, crumbling the moist leaven into the center of the flour. With the milk properly scalded, she added a spoonful of bacon grease, stirring until the ingredients melted together.

While the mixture cooled, she wiped down the counter with a damp rag, set a bowl in front of Dinah to put her sorted beans into and then returned to her baking. She gently tapped the side of the pan to ensure a lukewarm temperature, then poured the thickened milk into the well of flour. Waiting for the yeast to dissolve, she gradually added a generous handful of sugar.

Weariness eased into her sore muscles as she worked. She forced her thoughts away from her discomfort and focused her attention on the liquid mixture foaming merrily in the center of the flour. Satisfied she’d waited long enough for the yeast to develop, Maggie folded in the dry ingredients.

Bread-baking day was her favorite day of the week. She loved the silky texture of the flour, the way the dough gradually came together beneath the heels of her hands to form a smooth, flexible ball. The way the yeast smelled reminded her of days spent in the kitchen with her mother before their world fell apart, happy and comforting. She put the dough into pans and then slid the two loaves into the oven.

“Baby James is awake, Sissy.” Dinah rubbed the baby’s head.

“Thank you, Dinah.” Maggie lowered herself into the chair beside her sister and picked the baby up out of the washtub. The growing fatigue of the simple action of making bread pulled her to slump in the chair. She pressed the baby to her chest. He snuggled into her neck, bringing a sweet feeling of deep love for the infant.

“Is he hungry again?” Dinah asked. She studied the small rows of beans in front of her.

Maggie checked the baby’s diaper. He was still dry. She cuddled him close and leaned her head back as he nursed. Her eyes felt heavy, so she closed them. She’d just rest them a little while the bread baked.

“Sissy?”

Maggie jerked awake. How long had she been sleeping? The baby rested in her arms. “I’m sorry, Dinah. I fell asleep.” The smell of baking bread filled the small kitchen.

“I think the bread is finished.” Dinah stood in front of the stove holding a dish towel.

She tucked the blanket around the baby once more and placed him in the washtub. Her back ached as she stood. “You’re right. It is ready to come out.” Maggie pulled the bread from the oven and sighed. “Dinah, I think I’ll take the baby and go lie down.”

“You want me to do the dishes?” Dinah asked.

“No, sweetie. Why don’t you come upstairs with me? You can play with your doll and blocks while I take a nap.” She tugged on the girl’s ponytail. “Then we’ll get up and put those beans on to boil.”

Dinah put the beans into the bowl Maggie had supplied earlier. She yawned. “Maggie, how come baby James sleeps so much?”

“He’s new to the world. He’s going to be doing a lot of growing, so he needs to sleep. You used to sleep a lot, too.”

Carrying the baby, Maggie made her way back up the stairs, each step painful and slow. Dinah tagged along behind her. “You remember when I was a baby?”

“It was only five short years ago,” Maggie reminded her. She continued placing one foot in front of the other until she finally reached the top of the stairs.

The front door opened below them. Maggie turned to see who had entered her house. Gus stepped inside. She frowned. When had Gus become so bold as to enter without knocking?

“Aw, Maggie. It’s good to see you are up. I take it the baby is in good health?” Gus walked across the room and stopped at the foot of the stairs.

Maggie tightened her hold on the baby. “Yes. What did you come to the house for, Gus?”

He laughed. “Always getting straight to the point, huh, Maggie?”

She didn’t answer him. Maggie waited for him to continue. From experience, she knew he’d continue whether she answered or not.

“Now that the baby is here, you have even less time to invest in the ranch. Sell it to me, Maggie. I’ll give you a good price and you and the kids will be able to live a life of comfort for years to come.” He advanced farther up the stairs.

Dinah hid behind Maggie’s skirt.

Maggie understood the little girl’s fear. Most often Gus’s eyes blazed his anger at whatever situation they were confronted with, but today, cunning and desire to own the Fillmore Ranch shone clear as day. She shook her head. “Thank you, Gus. I’m sure that your offer would be generous, but I promised to keep the land for baby James. I can’t sell it.”

His jaw clenched. “Jack is dead. He’ll never know if you kept your word or not.” He leaned a hip on the stair railing.