Saffron Read online

  Heck, thinking like that wasn’t going to help him at all. It would be impossible for him to court anybody with a house full of a ready-made family. One he loved, granted, but they were going to take all of his time for as far as he could see into the future. It wouldn’t be fair to any young lady to pretend otherwise.

  He took one last look at the long, white adobe house before he flicked the reins and headed down the drive and under the large, iron sign that read Archer Ranch. He closed his eyes and rubbed them, positive he’d done the right thing.

  Chapter 9

  Silverware clattered as Saffron set the last platter on the long mahogany table in the dining room that was now covered with a tablecloth, striped with bright colors. There were some nights when her father preferred linen and china, but on Sundays, when as much of the Archer family that was able got together, Maria ruled.

  She closed the doors to the mahogany buffet and ran her hand over the top of it, the wood polished and gleaming. She’d polished it herself, as she did every Sunday, in honor of her mother. It had been her favorite piece of furniture—not surprisingly, as her love of cooking was legendary. So much so that all of her daughters had been named after herbs or spices.

  Saffron thought of her sister, Sage, and wondered how they could be twins, they were so different. Sage had always been one to strike out on her own, fearless, afraid of nothing, and now she was volunteering with the new doctor in town. Saffron couldn’t imagine such a thing, and was quite content to stay at home and help Maria with her cooking.

  She reached for the black iron candelabra she’d cleaned earlier and set it in the middle of the table. She cocked her head and looked at it more closely as she set it on the table. It really was unusual—beautifully crafted and with room for twelve candles. Although there were lanterns in each corner of the dining room, her father had wanted more light and had come home with this candelabra this week, asking her to be sure to put on the table. She gently placed a candle in each holder and stood back, surveying the table.

  Nodding, she placed the extra candles back in the drawer of the buffet and peeked out the window. Everyone should be arriving soon, and she felt the flutter of nerves—or was it excitement—when so many people were coming on Sundays. Her father had said it was to be a relaxing evening where they could all just enjoy each other’s company and she did enjoy it, but for some reason was also relieved when she could wave goodbye to them.

  She counted the place settings one last time, making sure she had enough room for everyone. It was a slightly smaller crowd tonight without Sadie and Suzanne and their families, but Meg and Rose both were coming with their husbands and Saffron realized she didn’t mind that it would be little smaller.

  Saffron smiled as she saw the buggy approaching, noting that there were five instead of four. As she set another place setting on the table, her father strode into the room. Saffron looked up, her heart tugging at the gray at his temples that hadn’t been there before her mother died. Her parents had had a remarkable love, and it had taken her father years to recover. Sometimes even now, she wasn’t sure he had fully come to terms with it all.

  “Who’s the extra place setting for?” He tugged at his sleeves, his sleek black hair in contrast to the crisp white shirt he wore. His silver belt buckle flashed in the afternoon sun, and as Saffron looked down at his polished boots, she thought him handsome.

  “Meg asked me to set an extra place. It looks like Mrs. Allen in the buggy to me.”

  Beau Archer stiffened and Saffron tilted her head as she watched him then cross to the window. She frowned, knowing that her father knew Mrs. Allen and had never given her any reason to think he would rather she not be invited. Besides, everyone was invited, at her father’s request, so he shouldn’t be surprised that Meg brought her mother-in-law.

  He smoothed back his hair and pulled on his coat as he turned away from the window. “I see,” he said as his eyes darted over the table. “I do remember that she enjoys Maria’s Mexican cuisine. I suppose it’s not unusual for her to come.”

  Her eyes followed him as he reached for his hat on the peg by the door and took a few swipes at it with his handkerchief, removing any dust. He set it on his head and crossed to the mirror beside the grandfather clock in the parlor, turning his head right and left before he fixed a decidedly uncomfortable gaze on Saffron.

  “What?” he said as their eyes met.

  “Nothing, Papa.”

  “Then why are you looking at me strangely?”

  “No reason,” she said, covering her smile as she watched him go to the door, take a deep breath and tug at his coat before opening it.

  “Looks like you can see it too,” Maria said as she pushed open the swinging door, carrying full platters of beans and rice.

  Saffron reached for one of the heavy dishes as she looked up at Maria. “I can see he’s behaving oddly, if that’s what you mean.” She set the platter in the middle of the table where she’d saved space for the large plates of one of Maria’s specialties.

  “Have you asked him why?”

  Saffron turned quickly to Maria, her brows furrowed. “You know that’s not a good idea. He’s been happy for a while, and I for one certainly don’t want to rock the boat.”

  “Hm,” Maria said as she placed another large dish on the opposite end of the table. “Well, then I just might have to—”

  “Saffron!” Her sister Meg tumbled through the door, followed closely by her husband, Michael.

  Saffron whispered to Maria, “Please, not tonight,” and narrowed her eyes at her before turning to Meg and allowing herself to be wrapped in a big hug.

  “Meg!” Sage squealed as she ran down the hall, followed by their younger sisters, Tarragon and Pepper. In no time, there were hugs all around including their oldest sister, Rose.

  All chatter stopped as Maria came through the kitchen door once more, her arms heavy with enchiladas and tamales. Maria hadn’t made tamales for quite some time, and had decided to make the labor-intensive dish tonight with Saffron’s help.

  “Tamales!” Pepper said and hugged Maria just as she finished setting the platter down.

  Maria beamed and nodded at Saffron. “Don’t forget to thank your sister, too. I could not have done this without her help.”

  Saffron smelled her before she saw her, the lovely scent of lavender wafting in before she’d even come through the door. It was quite a different scent that she associated with her mother—rose water—but it was beautiful, just as beautiful as she herself was.

  Maria’s eyebrows rose as she spotted Mrs. Allen and Saffron followed her gaze to the door. Her father stepped through first, his discomfort visible, and Saffron smiled as Mrs. Allen followed him, her arm wrapped through his.

  Saffron thought again, as she had many times before, that Mrs. Allen’s elegant beauty and grace might be the only rival to her mother’s, her black hair piled on her head and secured with lovely, ivory combs. The light blue feathers on her hat matched her gown, and her blue eyes sparkled as they set on Saffron and Maria.

  She crossed to Maria and held out her hand. “Thank you for including me, Maria. I always love the opportunity to partake in your fabulous, exotic cuisine.”

  Maria’s eyes softened as she nodded. “You are welcome any time, Mrs. Allen. If I’d known that you were coming, I’d have made your favorite enchiladas.”

  “Oh, thank you, but I have no doubt that whatever you’ve magically prepared will be absolutely delicious.” She turned to Beau Archer and her pink lips spread into a lovely smile. She opened a blue fan the color of her eyes and waved it gently in front of her face. “And thank you for having me, Beau. I do so enjoy these gatherings.”

  All eyes turned to her father as he smiled. “Nice to have you here, Mrs. Allen.” He cleared his throat and looked around the room, his eyebrows raised.

  The chatter started up again immediately, and Saffron wondered if she was the only one who saw her father dab at his forehead with his handkerchief
and tug at his shirt collar before reaching to pull a chair out for Mrs. Allen.

  As they all took a seat, Saffron looked around the room at her family, how many they were and how warm it felt that they were together. Even without their mother, they all stood together, helping each other whenever necessary and working together as a team. Her five sisters and her sister-in-law, Clara, made sure that no upset went unaddressed or a question unanswered.

  As she pulled out her napkin to place it on her lap, her thoughts wandered to Adam’s sister, and she wondered who, if anyone, she had to talk to. No sister, no mother, no aunts. How lonely that must be, and Saffron swiped at the tear in her eye before it fell.

  Chapter 10

  The light from the candelabra cast flickering shadows against the white, stucco walls of the adobe ranch house, more so now as the sun fell lower in the sky.

  They’d been eating and chatting for some time now, and it seemed to Saffron like quite a bit had happened in her family’s lives in just the week since she’d seen them. As she brought the platter of empanadas out of the kitchen to twitters and excited gasps, she couldn’t imagine what it would have been like had Sadie and Suzanne and their families joined them. They’d have been talking for hours and hours.

  The warm apple turnovers, their golden crusts perfectly flaky, were another of Maria’s specialties, and the smiles on the faces of her family warmed her heart. It was one small thing that she loved to do, and half of the time she wondered if her sisters complimented her cooking so regularly to ensure they wouldn’t be pulled into kitchen duty themselves.

  When their mother had been alive, everyone fought for kitchen duty as it was the best time to talk, especially alone with their mother as that’s where she was most likely to be found—here in the kitchen, or in the herb garden outside the cottage Hank and Clara now shared. Now that she thought about it, it was where she was mostly found herself now, and it wasn’t infrequent that one of her sisters came in—whether it was to help knead dough or chop onions—and many heartfelt conversations had ensued. Saffron was grateful for even a smidgen of any traits of her mother and glad she could share those traits with her family.

  “Thank you for the wonderful dessert,” Sage said as she reached for the platter her father passed her.

  Heads nodded in agreement with mouths full of tart apples and cinnamon and Saffron took a bite of hers, nodding as the tender crust and melted butter danced on her tongue. These might be the best ones they’d ever made.

  Beau Archer sat back in his chair as he popped the last bit into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor it. Saffron noticed that Mrs. Archer ate hers with her fork, but had the same contented look on her face.

  “Tell me about that new farrier you’ve hired, son,” Beau said to her brother, Hank, at the opposite end of the table. “I hear he’s new in town but learned from the best.”

  Hank wiped crumbs from his mouth and set his napkin back down. “I heard he was the best before I met him, Pa, but I can confirm now Adam’s been here he’s the best I ever saw.”

  “That so?” her father asked. “How do you mean? What makes him so special?”

  Hank took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “You and I have both seen a good number of farriers during our time on the ranch and on the trail. You know it makes a difference how the farrier treats the horses, and it sure makes a difference in how well they can do their job. For some reason, he can calm the horses right down and he’s so quick at his work and does a good job of it, you’d almost never know it was done at all.”

  Hank’s wife Clara laughed and placed her hand on his arm. “He’s not the only one around who has a way with horses.”

  Her brother blushed and he patted his wife’s hand. “You’re a little biased, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe,” Clara said and Hank’s face turned a deeper shade of red. “But it’s true.”

  “Thank you. But I’m not a farrier and sometimes it can be a chore to find one who doesn’t leave horses with sore hooves and even more sore attitudes. It can be pretty dicey with a bad farrier. Horses can be limping for days if it’s not done right. Big responsibility.”

  “Sounds like you think he’s up to it. A nice addition to town, sounds like,” Beau said. “Where’s he from?”

  Hank shrugged his shoulders. “We didn’t talk personal stuff, just horse stuff, but I heard maybe from Montana.”

  “South Dakota, actually,” Rose added, folding her napkin over her empty plate. “His two younger brothers come to the schoolhouse. Luke and Andy.”

  “So his whole family is here?” Mrs. Allen asked.

  Rose and Michael exchanged glances.

  Michael cleared his throat. “I’m afraid it’s not quite that simple. Apparently, his parents passed away and Adam was left in charge of his younger siblings.”

  Hank’s eyebrows rose. “He was? He’s not any older than I am. That must be quite a responsibility.” He looked around the table. “At least there are no sisters to worry about.”

  Rose shook her head slowly. “You joke, but that must be very difficult, to be alone and have to make farrier calls. Even though the boys are at school a good part of the day—”

  “I believe there is a sister. And she can’t walk.” The room grew silent and all eyes turned toward Saffron as she spoke.

  “Oh, my Lord,” Mrs. Allen said as she raised her hand to her chest.

  “Saffron, is that true? Why haven’t we heard about another sibling?” Michael said. He wasn’t only the headmaster of the schoolhouse, but seemed to be the advocate for educating all the children in Tombstone.

  Saffron lowered her eyes. “Lily told me that they don’t like to talk about it. That she stays home and can’t come to school.”

  “They certainly do not talk about it, or I would have heard something. I wonder how old she is? How did it happen that she can’t walk?” Rose’s voice tightened with concern.

  Michael rested his hand on his wife’s. “This wouldn’t be the first time that we’ve encountered barriers to coming to school, or education at all,” he said softly as his wife nodded.

  “Michael, I think you and I should call on the Bensons and offer assistance,” she said. “And I believe we should go tomorrow. As soon as possible.”

  Sage set her napkin down and leaned back in her chair. “Might that be seen as meddling? I’ve heard the doctor mention going to people’s homes and they aren’t welcome.”

  Mr. Archer leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “I might agree with Sage. I could be perceived as meddling.”

  He colored as Mrs. Allen said, “Nonsense. Anything is appropriate when it involves the welfare of a child. Don’t you agree, Rose?”

  “I do. We can take something as a welcome gift and just get an idea what’s going on. We have some experience with this, actually.” Rose nodded, as if it was a final decision.

  Hank cleared his throat. “Certainly you’re not implying anything—well, anything against Adam?”

  “Absolutely not,” Michael said briskly. “I in no way mean to impugn his character. But if you think about it, how difficult would it be for that young man to take care of a family on his own? Especially with an immobile young girl?”

  Meg turned to Saffron. “How old is she, Saffron?”

  Saffron shook her head. “I don’t know. To be honest, though she looked a little closer to my age. Maybe she’s finished school.”

  “We should go tomorrow, after school, and then we’ll know. Even if she’s finished with schooling, she may just need some company. It can be a neighborly visit,” Rose said to her husband.

  He shook his head. “I can’t. It’s a school committee meeting day and I must attend. Mrs. Samson would have my hide if I missed it.”

  “I should say so,” Mr. Archer said. “And I wouldn’t want to be on the bad side of that old bat.”

  The girls tittered, including Saffron.

  “Mr. Archer!” Mrs. Allen said in mock horror as she tapped his a
rm with her closed fan.

  Michael looked down at his plate, but Saffron could see the smile on his lips. “No, I must attend. Is there anyone else who might go with you, Rose?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I imagine Suzanne and Sadie will be busy. I could—”

  “I’ll go.” Saffron eyes widened as the words escaped her lips and all eyes turned toward her.

  “You?” Sage asked.

  “You don’t ever like to leave the house,” Pepper said. “Why would you want to take time away from cooking or reading?”

  Saffron’s ears tingled. They were right. She did spend most of her time wishing she could stay home. But the thought of meeting Adam’s sister pulled at her, and she was willing to forego her comfort to satisfy her curiosity.

  “I’ve met Adam and I would like to help if I could.” Saffron hoped her warm cheeks escaped the notice of her sisters, but knew she wasn’t likely to be so fortunate.

  “You have?” Pepper asked.

  Hank laughed and slapped his knee. “She saw him in the stable.” His eyes twinkled. “And he’s the one who splashed you head to toe with mud the other day, isn’t he?”

  “Stop, all of you. It’s very kind of Saffron to volunteer to accompany me, and I’m certain that her desire to help is sincere. There comes a time when all of us change, don’t you think?” To Saffron, she said, “Thank you. I appreciate it very much. Might you be able to fetch me from the schoolhouse after the students have gone tomorrow? Around three o’clock?”

  Saffron’s stomach clenched, but she was able to say, “Yes. I can,” as she wondered why she’d said anything at all.

  Chapter 11

  The basket slid forward as Saffron pulled the horses to a stop in front of the schoolhouse, right at the appointed time. She reached for it and lifted the napkin, breathing a sigh of relief that none of the empanadas had broken and none were smashed. Maria had handed her the basket on her way out the door and told her it was proper to bring a gift of food when visiting someone. Saffron hadn’t visited people at their homes in a very long time, so she took the basket from Maria, held it in the crook of her arm and thanked her, fairly positive that Maria knew more than she did about these kinds of things.