Grooms with Honor Series, Books 7-9 Page 31

  It was a little hard to hear over the rumble of the wagon and the jingling of the harnessed mule-team, but they managed to converse.

  “A former soldier and friend lives near Ellsworth, Kansas now and runs his family café with his wife. He knew most of the ranchers in the area and assured me there’d be plenty of work for me.” Elof didn’t bother going into details of working with horses.

  “Ellsworth? Didn’t that used to be a big cattle shipping point back about a dozen years ago?”

  “Yes, my friend Nolan grew up in the area and remembers the huge herds coming up from Texas and shipping out of the little town.”

  “That would have been something to see,” the man answered.

  Elof was anxious to see Kansas. Nolan talked about rolling hills covered with grass, cattle, and no trees. The Montana Territory was a mixture of prairie rolling up to mountains with forests of evergreens and aspens so he might miss trees.

  Nolan said the Kansas weather was milder during the winter, but hotter in the summer. But it didn’t matter what the weather was like as long as he could continue working with horses. That’s why work on ranches sounded like a good new start.

  Jamie shifted, stretched, and laid back against his chest after a big sigh. Elof liked the feel of the youngster depending on him. Elof left the army because he was tired of the lifestyle, finally yearning to have a family of his own. He might be starting later in life than most men did being in his thirties, but he just hadn’t been ready yet.

  He looked over at Linnea sitting between the two men, who were carrying on a conversation as if she wasn’t there. Poor woman. What must be going through her mind today, only twenty-four hours after her husband died and now she’s traveling to who knows where?

  But for some reason, Elof knew Linnea could handle what came her way, good or bad.

  In some ways, Elof wouldn’t mind marrying someone who was a little older than the typical bride was. A thirty-plus-year-old woman would be a lot more levelheaded and knowledgeable than a dewy-eyed eighteen-year-old.

  Linnea was young enough to bear and nurture children. Or be a good schoolmarm. Maybe the Swedish community near where he was headed needed a teacher.

  He could tell Linnea wanted to cuddle and comfort Jamie last night but the boy wouldn’t have it. Time together would bring them together. She’d be a good mother to Jamie, even if she stayed a widow.

  “Poppa gotta pee.”

  “Hold on, son. Got to get you off the saddle first.” Jamie called out for his father several times last night, not always waking up enough to realize it was Elof rubbing his back instead. Elof figured the boy wasn’t quite awake now either.

  “Dalberg! I’m stopping a second for the boy!”

  Elof swung the horse away from the wagon, halted the horse, and swung off the saddle in a few short seconds. He’d learned the first time Jamie said he had to go he meant now—not later—when they were traveling.

  “Let me get you off the horse.” Elof didn’t wait for Jamie to wiggle down the side of the saddle and stirrup by himself. He lifted him off the saddle and set the boy on the ground on the opposite side of the horse.

  Jamie was wiggling like crazy trying to get his pants down, so Elof helped him, barely getting out of the way before “the stream” started.

  Well, good practice for his own family.

  Laughter from the halted wagon made Elof realize the men, and Linnea had witnessed the whole scene. Oh well, the boy was young and not the least bit modest at this age.

  “Mrs. Meyer, you want to ride Curly for a while?”

  She wore a brown split skirt and brown-striped shirtwaist today, purchases from the mercantile yesterday. Probably didn’t feel like she needed to wear black for an eight-day marriage.

  Mrs. Meyer mentioned she used to ride horses in Sweden so riding Curly would give her a change of seating, and give them a chance to talk too.

  Dalberg stepped down off the wagon and helped Mrs. Meyer to the ground before walking around the back of the wagon. Dalberg untied Curly’s halter, then slipped it down her neck so he could work the bridle bit in her mouth and the bridle over her ears.

  “Let me tighten the cinch before you get on and lower the stirrups. They’re high where Jamie needs them.”

  Jamie finished his business then warily watched Dalberg ready Curly’s saddle for Mrs. Meyer.

  “No! She’s not gonna ride my horse!” Jamie yelled, making both horses sidestep.

  Elof grabbed Jamie’s shoulder before he ran over to Curly. “Yes, your ma is going to ride her while you’re riding with me.”

  “She’s not my ma!” Jamie shouted, stamping his foot to make the point.

  Elof got down on his haunches to Jamie’s eye level. It was time for a talk. Maybe it was too soon, but maybe Jamie would feel better if he knew he was safe and with someone, even if it wasn’t his parents.

  “Your Pa married Mrs. Meyer to be your new mother. She is the one who will take care of you from now on.”

  Elof looked over to Mrs. Meyer. “Do you have a suggestion for what he should call you if he doesn’t want to use ma or momma?”

  “Maybe one of the Swedish words for mother? Moder, or Mor?”

  “What’s your first name; since I haven’t heard you mention it?”

  “Linnea and my last name was Carlsdotter before I married last week. Please call me by my first name instead of Mrs. Meyer. I was barely used to it anyway.”

  Linnea. She’s named for the Swedish pink bellflower. The name suited her.

  “Jamie, since your new mother is from Sweden you can call her either Moder or Mor. Your choice.”

  His lower lip was stuck out in defiance, but he nodded he’d do it. Then a question furrowed his brow. “What’s the word for pa in Swedish then?”

  “Very similar. Fader, or Far.”

  “So you my new Swedish Pa then?” Elof abruptly stood up, shocked at the boy’s question and snickers from Dalberg and Dunbar.

  “Well, that name will be reserved for the man your new ma marries when she’s ready to do so again.”

  “Isn’t that you?”

  Elof studied the boy and realized he was asking a serious question.

  “No. I’m just helping the two of you get a new place to live—like Mr. Dalberg is helping you out.”

  “Let’s get moving again. Got a long ways to go before we stop for the night.” Dalberg held Curly’s reins while Linnea swung up to sit on the saddle.

  “Stirrups feel like the right length?” Dalberg tugged on the stirrup to convey what he meant to Linnea.

  “Yes, thank you. I can change them down the road if need be.”

  Dalberg nodded and walked back to the wagon and climbed back on, taking the reins from the passenger.

  “Time to ride again, Jamie. Climb up.” Elof lifted Jamie by his waist so he could reach the saddle pommel with his hands, then Elof waited for the boy to climb into the saddle. Jamie needed to feel like he was accomplishing things by himself.

  Elof swung into the saddle behind Jamie and caught up with Linnea and Curly. They hadn’t had a chance to get to know each other yet, so now was his chance.

  Best way to find out about Linnea was to tell her about himself. She was handling Curly like a seasoned rider, but he guessed she’d be saddle sore by the end of the day.

  “I’m originally from Vimmerby, Småland province. My father was a soldier. I still have two older married sisters living in that area. I have ten nephews and one niece, none I’ve met.”

  “How long have you been in America?”

  “Sixteen years.”

  “Why leave?”

  “Same as everyone else during that time period. Things were bad in Sweden, and the United States railroads were advertising passage to free land.”

  “Did you ever homestead any acres?”

  “No. That was my plan, but I wasn’t a farmer. My father was a soldier, and I spent two years in the Swedish army before leaving. So guess what I end up doing? B
ut my job was to keep the troops’ horses shod and healthy.” Elof pointed to his military-issued hat since he still wore his cavalry uniform. He’d buy new clothing once he arrived in Kansas.

  “Did you wish you’d never left Sweden, or want to return?” Linnea asked.

  “No. What about you?” Time to hear Linnea’s story.

  “Right now I wish I had never left Sweden because I’m worse off now than when I lived there.”

  “Where did you grow up?”

  “Actually on a farm near Pelarne, which is very close to Vimmerby.”

  “Ah, I’ve been through the village.” Interesting they were from the same area of Sweden.

  “If you arrived from Sweden earlier this year, what did you do back home as an adult? Farm or work elsewhere?”

  “My brother inherited the farm, but I still lived there to take care of my parents until they passed.”

  “The dutiful daughter.” It was the custom for the youngest daughter to stay with the parents and not marry until after they were gone.

  “I was too old to marry, so I decided to try a new life in America.”

  Linnea discreetly wiped the tears from her cheeks. Elof bet she’d been looking forward to a new life but then both her job and marriage ended in a very short time frame.

  Elof knew it was so much harder for a woman to fend for herself. But in the short time he’d known her, he knew she was resourceful and could find a job or husband. The trouble was she was now responsible for a young son beside herself. And to make things worse, the two weren’t close, at least not yet.

  Jamie’s head was bobbing against Elof’s chest again. The rhythmic walking of the horse had put him back to sleep. There’d be many days of restless sleeping, crying jags and rebellious behavior for the little boy, and Linnea trying to cope with the upset child.

  Elof noticed Linnea was using her gloved left hand for reining and wondered how bad her right burned palm looked this morning. Her wide-brimmed slouch hat protected her face from the sun and from his view. This morning the burned skin on her cheek didn’t look as angry red as yesterday, so hopefully, it wasn’t as sore either.

  Why was he so fascinated with Linnea? Probably because she’s the first single woman he’d talked to in a long time. There were officer’s wives at Fort Ellis, but he didn’t socialize with them. He’d lived in a barracks with men and spent his days tending horses.

  She was average height for a woman, coming up to his shoulder. Her curvy figure appealed to him, and he’d like the times he’d helped her down from the wagon because he got to feel her soft waist.

  Linnea’s white blonde hair had a wave to it according to the messy braid lying down her back. Her hair was in a bun at the nape of her neck yesterday, but she probably couldn’t pin it up today because of her damaged right hand.

  Maybe he’d offer to comb and braid her hair tonight when they set up camp. He remembered how to braid hair growing up with two sisters.

  “So what did you hope life would be like in America?” Elof was curious what she hoped to gain by moving to the United States.

  Linnea rode on in silence, but he could see she was thinking about it.

  “Independence. Although I dearly loved my parents, I was duty bound to them, until they passed. My brother and his wife didn’t help with their care, enough though they lived in the adjoining section of the house.”

  Old farm homes in Sweden typically had two sections, each identical with a middle hall between them.

  “Yes, I came to America doing the same thing, taking care of an older woman in Chicago, but that’s what I knew how to do. I was learning the American language and customs through her and her household.”

  “So she died unexpectedly?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Eklund was physically and mentality in good shape for being in her eighties. At this point, I was her companion, not her caregiver, although that would have eventually changed over time.”

  Linnea carefully wiped her face with the back of her right glove.

  “She fell down the stairs and broke her neck. Luckily the maid was with me when it happened, or I probably would have been charged with murder.”

  Elof shook his head thinking of the bad luck this woman had in the short time she’d lived in the States.

  “Well, you do have some money now from the sale of Mr. Meyer’s assets. Could you go back to Chicago and find a similar position again?”

  “But I have his son to consider now.”

  “I’m sure there’d be a rancher in the area who would take him in. He’s young but will be good help before long.”

  Linnea changed her gaze from Elof to the sleeping boy in his saddle.

  “I’m sure someone would take him, but I’d like to raise him.”

  “Why?”

  Her serious eyes meet his. “Because he’s the only family I have now.”

  Even though it was through a horrible situation, Linnea had found someone else to take care of, as she’d done all her life. Jamie would, hopefully, be there for her in her old age.

  It struck Elof that’s the real reason he’d left the army. He was looking for someone to take care of and vice versa. He wanted a family too.

  Chapter 4

  Why?

  Elof’s question had plagued Linnea’s mind the two days they traveled to Miller Springs. Was it fair to Jamie to keep him with her, or should she let someone else raise him? Mr. Dalberg mentioned two ranchers around Miller Springs who could possibly take Jamie. But she didn’t feel right handing him over to strangers and leaving.

  It gave a purpose to her life. Maybe becoming Jamie’s mother was the reason she’d been sent to the Montana Territory.

  Jamie had fallen asleep on her shoulder last night as they sat by the campfire. She’d sung a Swedish lullaby, and it lulled him to sleep.

  Elof laid the sleeping child on her bedroll, and she’d kept her arm around him most of the night, comforting him when nightmares challenged his young mind.

  Jamie was surprised when he woke up this morning and realized he was beside her instead of Elof. She said a very practiced “Good morning, son” in English to him before he pulled away from her and scrambled out of bed. It would take time to reach his heart and earn his trust.

  Could she do both, or would it be better to let an American couple raise him instead? Her head said to find him a home here, while her heart ached to keep him.

  Miller Springs wasn’t much bigger than Silver Crossing, except this town had a bank, a depot, and a sheriff besides some stores.

  Mr. Dalberg dropped her trunks off at the depot with Elof’s for now. The two horses left tied to a hitching post nearby.

  Elof held the door open for her and Jamie to enter the sheriff’s office.

  “Besides reporting Mr. Meyer’s death, we need to know if the sheriff knew him, in case he can refer us to any relatives,” Elof told Linnea.

  A man with a badge on his jacket stood from behind his desk as they entered the room. Linnea had never been inside a jailhouse and was as curious as Jamie, who was looking around.

  She didn’t pay attention to what Elof and the man were talking about until Elof addressed her.

  “Sheriff Randal Matters asked you to take a seat while we talk, Linnea.”

  Then he turned to Jamie. “Stand with your Mor, Jamie,” and waited until Jamie moved over to her. She smiled and slowly wrapped her arm around his waist when he moved closer to her.

  If only they’d had more time together, Linnea could help Jamie now. He looked scared, knowing he was in a different town seeing different people talk about his father’s death again.

  “Elof, should I take Jamie outside while you talk to the sheriff? I think this is upsetting him.”

  The two men turned to look at Jamie, now hiding his face into Linnea’s side.

  Elof dug his hand into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a coin.

  “There’s a mercantile just down the block. Let him buy some candy,” Elof said as he handed the coi
n to Linnea.

  “Go with Mor to the store, Jamie,” Elof said simply, so they both understood him.

  “Uh...you like peppermint?” Linnea whispered in Jamie’s ear since he hadn’t moved yet.

  “Yeah, why?” Jamie cautiously asked while turning his head to look at her.

  Linnea smiled and raised her eyebrows while showing him the coin held between her fingers. The coin got the boy’s attention, and he gave her a tentative smile.

  She rose, took Jamie’s hand, and left the jailhouse. Once outside she stopped to look around but Jamie starting pulling her to their right.

  “There’s the store.”

  Linnea read the words “Carson’s Mercantile” on the sign above the large plate glass windows of the store. Merchandise in the front windows was a universal sign for anyone to figure out, whatever language a person spoke.

  A bell tinkled as they opened the door and a woman appeared behind the back counter.

  “May I help you?”

  “We’d like some candy.” Linnea walked toward the candy display she saw on the right side of the counter. Jamie couldn’t quite see the selection so she picked him up so he could see the jars of candy better.

  She recognized peppermint sticks, lemon drops, butterscotch discs, and molasses Black Jack sticks. Now her mouth was watering too. She’d hadn’t had a sweet treat since leaving Chicago.

  “Three each,” Linnea told the woman while holding up three fingers, then slowly pointing to four different jars of candy. That would give a variety of candy for the three of them to share once Elof was done talking with the sheriff.

  They were exiting the store when Elof left the sheriff’s office and started walking toward them. Elof held up his hand, indicating to wait there for him.

  “What kind of candy did you get, Jamie?” The boy lifted one shoulder as if he didn’t care what kind. Most children would have opened the paper sack and started eating a piece by now, but Jamie wasn’t in the mood.

  Elof opened the bag and peered inside. “Necco Wafers? How’d you know those are my favorite candies?”

  Linnea spoke up since Jamie didn’t comment. “I’d never had them until coming to America. They were one of Mrs. Eklund’s favorite candies. There was always a bowl of them on her library table.”