Free The Handsomest Man in the Country by Nancy Radke Page B

Denver. Of course in Denver, there would be restaurants and other people who could make doughnuts.
    A tall young man stepped into the store, pausing in the doorway, his eyes moving slowly from person to person. He was a handsome figure of a man, broad of shoulder and with a carriage that hinted of a military background. He looked directly at me for a moment, with green eyes that showed a questioning interest, before looking away.
    He came a step toward me, hesitated, then walked over to where the storekeeper was helping a lady fill her order. I turned to look again at the sewing goods displayed.
    The needles, thread and yarn were tempting, but I had Aunt Edith's sewing goods and so didn't need them.
    "Mrs. Trahern? Ma'am?"
    It took me a minute to realize that whoever was speaking was speaking to me. I looked up to see that tall young man standing at my side, his broad-brimmed hat in his hand. He had light brown hair, needing to be cut, bleached in streaks by the sun. How did he know who I was? I'd never seen him before. Or had I? He looked somehow familiar.
    "Yes?"
    "I've a message for you, ma'am. From your husband."
    At last! Relief swept over me revealing how worried I really had been. "Is he all right?"
    "Yes...at least he was when I left him."
    "Where was that?"
    "Fremont. Just this side of Omaha."
    That far? "Did he say what took him?"
    "Yes ma'am. He didn't want to worry you none, but he found out the men who robbed him were camped just east of here. He took off after them but someone tipped them off he was coming. He had to chase them all the way down the Platte."
    "And did he catch them?"
    "He did. Two of them. He's got most of his outfit back and has one more to take care of. He said he'd be back. You can leave word where you'll be...here or at Ogallala: he'll check both places till he finds you."
    "Thank you."
    "He sent the horse and weapons back for you. He's got his own now and wanted you to have them."
    "Oh...he did? Did you bring them?"
    "Yes'm. And some other things. If you want to step outside ma'am, I'll turn them over to you."
    We stepped out into the bright sunlight and walked over towards the trees where he'd left his outfit. There was a large jumble of wagons and people, for it was a very long train and they hadn't pulled up into any kind of formation. Did you come in with this group, Mr...?"
    "Courtney. Yes, I did."
    I stopped walking and he stopped, too. Now I had him placed. That handsome face and long stride; I should've known right off. The man of my dreams.
    He'd filled out a bit, grown a mustache, his shoulders broader and chest deeper, but he was a Courtney all right. And even more handsome than when he’d left the mountains. An imp of mischief rose in me; I couldn't help wanting to tease him, he was so serious and respectful.
    "Courtney," I said slowly, as if pondering deeply. "You must be Gage Courtney."
    His eyes focused sharply on mine. "You heard of me?" he questioned, puzzled.
    "You got you a brother name of Razzel."
    "Yes. You know Raz?"
    "And another brother, Parallee."
    He was looking deeply perplexed, his mouth open in amazement, and I could hardly keep my face straight. "That's right! You know my brothers? How?"
    "I know all eight of you. And I also know a fine old lady in the hills you boys all left behind who deserves better from her sons than that."
    By now he was completely mystified. "Who are you?"
    I wasn't going to tell him. Let him guess. "You still riding that Tennessee Walker?"
    He placed me then. "Mally? Mally Buchanan?"
    "Mallory Buchanan Trahern," I announced. It did sound imposing when spoke all out.
    "Well, I never!" He stepped back and opened his eyes wider. "You were such a skinny little thing. Always following me about and begging to ride Gray Lady." He looked pleased to see me again, and the shy, respectful, hesitant manner left him to be replaced by a wide grin of welcome.
    "Do you still have her?"
    "No. She took a bullet—one meant for me—in my first battle.