horses?” he asked the stage driver.
“Just feed and water. We’ll stop in Doaksville, and I’ll change the team there.”
By the time Ivy got everyone inside, Gideon had determined the stage driver’s boot prints didn’t match those in the woods. Neither did the others. He unhitched the horses so they could drink from the trough.
After putting out a bucket of grain, he soaped and scrubbed his hands then splashed water on his neck and face. He used the other clean rag in his trouser pocket to dry off then went inside.
Ivy stood at the opposite end of the table, setting down a steaming bowl of chicken and dumplings. Another bowl full of the same was at this end. Mr. Nichols sat at the foot of the table with Conrad on his right and the older couple on his left.
Ivy saw Gideon and indicated the chair at the head of the table. “I set you a place here.”
He could feel the stage driver’s glower as he made his way to his seat. When he reached Ivy, she arched a brow. He shook his head no to her unspoken question about Conrad’s prints. He sat, though she remained standing, making sure each dish was passed around the table.
Once the plates were filled, she took the chair to Gideon’s right. Their knees bumped, and he waited for her to move away, but she didn’t. For a few minutes, the only sounds were utensils scraping plates and the occasional creak of a chair.
Mr. Hargrove glanced at Gideon. “Where are you from, sir?”
All over, he thought, but said, “Mimosa Springs.”
“That’s farther west, isn’t it? Past Doaksville?”
“Yes, sir.” He leaned toward Ivy, saying quietly, “This is really good.”
Her lips curved, and his head went a little fuzzy.
Albert Hargrove addressed the man at the foot of the table. “What about you, Mr. Nichols? Where do you hail from?”
“Texas. I’m scouting future railroad stops for the Katy.”
Gideon knew that was the more common name for the Missouri, Kansas and Texas Railway Company.
As the older gentleman began asking questions about the railroad, Gideon glanced around the table. He hadn’t eaten with this many people since prison. At least here no one fought over the food. There was enough for everyone, including Conrad’s three helpings of chicken and dumplings.
Mr. Hargrove wiped his mouth with his napkin and spoke to Ivy. “I know a lot of stage stands have been adversely affected by the railroads. Has yours?”
Gideon felt her go still, but her tone gave away nothing of the trouble that had come to her door.
“No,” she answered. “At least not yet. The railroad isn’t near enough to impact.” She glanced at Mr. Nichols. “There’s been talk for a few years about the tracks coming through here, and nothing’s happened. Is there a real possibility of that now?”
“Could be, could be.” The man directed his attention to Gideon. “If the Katy were interested, would you consider selling this place?”
Gideon gestured to Ivy. “I’m just a ranch hand. She’s the boss.”
The agent’s dark eyes settled on her. “No husband?”
“No.” She angled her chin at him. “Would you refuse to deal with me because I’m not married?”
Gideon knew she was asking because the bank might do that very thing.
“Not at all.”
“Well, then.” Her shoulders relaxed. “If the railroad ever comes through, we might be able to come to an agreement. I might lease a stretch of land to you.”
“Do you have an arrangement with the stage line?”
She hesitated briefly. “I’m currently trying to work out a new deal with them.”
“Very smart,” Conrad piped up. “I’ll put in a good word for you, if you want.”
“No,” she said sharply, then softened her tone. “I mean, thank you, but I hope it won’t be necessary.”
Irritation flashed across his handsome features.
Mr. Nichols reached for more chicken and dumplings. “Mrs. Powell, your food is excellent, as Mr. Conrad said it would be.”
Ivy flashed a grateful smile to
“Just feed and water. We’ll stop in Doaksville, and I’ll change the team there.”
By the time Ivy got everyone inside, Gideon had determined the stage driver’s boot prints didn’t match those in the woods. Neither did the others. He unhitched the horses so they could drink from the trough.
After putting out a bucket of grain, he soaped and scrubbed his hands then splashed water on his neck and face. He used the other clean rag in his trouser pocket to dry off then went inside.
Ivy stood at the opposite end of the table, setting down a steaming bowl of chicken and dumplings. Another bowl full of the same was at this end. Mr. Nichols sat at the foot of the table with Conrad on his right and the older couple on his left.
Ivy saw Gideon and indicated the chair at the head of the table. “I set you a place here.”
He could feel the stage driver’s glower as he made his way to his seat. When he reached Ivy, she arched a brow. He shook his head no to her unspoken question about Conrad’s prints. He sat, though she remained standing, making sure each dish was passed around the table.
Once the plates were filled, she took the chair to Gideon’s right. Their knees bumped, and he waited for her to move away, but she didn’t. For a few minutes, the only sounds were utensils scraping plates and the occasional creak of a chair.
Mr. Hargrove glanced at Gideon. “Where are you from, sir?”
All over, he thought, but said, “Mimosa Springs.”
“That’s farther west, isn’t it? Past Doaksville?”
“Yes, sir.” He leaned toward Ivy, saying quietly, “This is really good.”
Her lips curved, and his head went a little fuzzy.
Albert Hargrove addressed the man at the foot of the table. “What about you, Mr. Nichols? Where do you hail from?”
“Texas. I’m scouting future railroad stops for the Katy.”
Gideon knew that was the more common name for the Missouri, Kansas and Texas Railway Company.
As the older gentleman began asking questions about the railroad, Gideon glanced around the table. He hadn’t eaten with this many people since prison. At least here no one fought over the food. There was enough for everyone, including Conrad’s three helpings of chicken and dumplings.
Mr. Hargrove wiped his mouth with his napkin and spoke to Ivy. “I know a lot of stage stands have been adversely affected by the railroads. Has yours?”
Gideon felt her go still, but her tone gave away nothing of the trouble that had come to her door.
“No,” she answered. “At least not yet. The railroad isn’t near enough to impact.” She glanced at Mr. Nichols. “There’s been talk for a few years about the tracks coming through here, and nothing’s happened. Is there a real possibility of that now?”
“Could be, could be.” The man directed his attention to Gideon. “If the Katy were interested, would you consider selling this place?”
Gideon gestured to Ivy. “I’m just a ranch hand. She’s the boss.”
The agent’s dark eyes settled on her. “No husband?”
“No.” She angled her chin at him. “Would you refuse to deal with me because I’m not married?”
Gideon knew she was asking because the bank might do that very thing.
“Not at all.”
“Well, then.” Her shoulders relaxed. “If the railroad ever comes through, we might be able to come to an agreement. I might lease a stretch of land to you.”
“Do you have an arrangement with the stage line?”
She hesitated briefly. “I’m currently trying to work out a new deal with them.”
“Very smart,” Conrad piped up. “I’ll put in a good word for you, if you want.”
“No,” she said sharply, then softened her tone. “I mean, thank you, but I hope it won’t be necessary.”
Irritation flashed across his handsome features.
Mr. Nichols reached for more chicken and dumplings. “Mrs. Powell, your food is excellent, as Mr. Conrad said it would be.”
Ivy flashed a grateful smile to
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