Chance Of A Lifetime (2 page)

She turned around, and a puzzled look crossed her face when he was too slow to hide his gaze. Bryce cleared his throat.

“Ahem. Could I have some of that?” He stuck out his empty cup. Never mind the fact that he didn’t like milk—he drained the glass by the end of the meal, since she’d smiled so pretty when she filled it for him.

Miz Willow—Bryce had to keep reminding himself to call her that instead of Widow Hendrick, since Hattie’d told him that the older woman preferred those who lived in her home to call her by that name—chatted with Logan and Daisy, but he didn’t see any reason to join in. Why speak up if he didn’t have something to contribute? He mostly got by with
yes
,
nope
, or a good shrug. Sometimes he wished he had a little more to add and Logan a little less.

Bryce ate his sandwiches silently, listening to the others and nodding his head occasionally as the conversation required. He noticed Jamie eyeing the sliced cheese. The little tyke was too polite to interrupt the adults to ask for some more. Bryce winked at Jamie as he pushed the plate close enough for him to choose a piece. The little boy’s smile—so full of joy and gratitude—warmed Bryce’s heart as he and Logan left and got back to work.

“Hand me more nails. I ran out,” Logan directed from up the makeshift ladder, where he was hammering together the frame of the first wall.

Bryce, holding the base, rummaged through his pockets until he gathered a fistful, then offered them to his brother. He squinted as Logan pounded the nails in and joined the frame to the pre-existing wall of the cabin. Then Logan jumped down, and Bryce clambered up to make sure the lines were even—it was always best to double-check these sorts of things.

“We’re fine.” Bryce came back down and walked over to the pile of lumber. He picked out another piece of wood to saw down to a small piece. The tiny bar, when wedged and secured between the two bigger pieces forming the corner, would support the wall and make it stronger.

“Lumber pile’s getting low,” Logan observed.

“Yep.” Bryce finished his sawing.

“We should go fill up the wagon with another load from the barn and bring it over.” Logan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, eager to build Hattie their new home. “Are you done with that yet?”

“Yep.” Bryce nodded his head and jumped back down beside his brother. “You know that getting something done quick and getting something done right don’t always go together.”

“Yeah,” Logan grumbled and picked up the pace. “I can only take one thing slow at a time. The wedding’s already waiting!”

Bryce grinned. He’d spoken his piece, and Logan had heard him. That would be good enough. They’d been working steadily since dinner, but now the sunlight was failing. After they moved this load, he and Logan would be done working on the cabin for today. One more week and it would be finished.

He saw Daisy come out of the house with a basket on her hip, walking over to the clothesline. The setting sun caught the fire in her hair, surrounding her face with a golden halo. Bryce drank in the sight.
She’s the closest thing to an angel I’ll ever see
.

“Today’s your big day, Hattie!” Daisy gestured to the old wooden tub, which she’d already filled with warm water. “I’ve drawn you a bath.” Jamie snoozed in the big bed.

“Thankee, Daisy.” Hattie slid the screen in place and disappeared behind it, only the soft splash of water marking her presence.

“While yore in there, Miz Willow’s taking some breakfast out to the barn for your groom and his brother.” Daisy put the cinnamon rolls in the ash oven to keep warm. “Silk Trevor’s already at the schoolhouse, making shore it’s neat and tidy.” Daisy didn’t tell Hattie how Silk and the women of the community had gotten together to decorate the schoolhouse with flowers. A bride deserved to have a surprise on her wedding day.

“It’s so kind of them!” Daisy could hear the smile in Hattie’s voice.

“When yore finished in there, don’t dawdle.” Daisy forced herself to be strict. “We’ve still got lots to do this morning, and you haven’t et so much as a single bite.”

“Oh, I don’t think I cain eat a bite,” Hattie demurred. “I’m too nervous.”

“Nonsense.” Miz Willow came in and banged the door shut. “Yore a healer—you have to have a strong stomach. Comes with the job.”

“You’ve been married once before,” Daisy encouraged. “You know how the ceremony will go. He waits for you, Otis Nye escorts you to him, and then you both say, ‘I do.’ “The words carried her back to the happiest day in her life. Daisy had stood all in white, with flowers woven into her hair as she promised to love Peter for as long as they lived. …

Why did it have to be such a short time? We didn’t even have a single full year together as man and wife
.

No. I cain’t think about that now. It’s Hattie’s day. She deserves to be happy, especially after how hard her first marriage to Peter’s brother was. She never uttered a single word of complaint but waited on Horace hand and foot for precious little thanks
.

“Let me do that for you.” Daisy took the towel from Hattie’s hands and sat her down by the fire so her hair would dry more quickly. Hattie had wisely donned her yellow dress instead of the green one she’d chosen to wear for the ceremony.

“You have such lovely color,” Daisy murmured as she rubbed Hattie’s hair, combing through it before toweling it again. The deep mahogany of her damp locks slowly gave way to burnished copper. “We’ve all decided you cain’t wear it back in a braid on yore weddin’ day,” Daisy spoke firmly over Hattie’s tiny squeak of dismay. “And none of those awful buns where yore head looks scraped back, neither.”

“What are you going to do?” Hattie moved restlessly as Daisy gathered up a few locks and began to weave them in a pretty fishtail pattern.

“Yore jist gonna hafta trust me.” Daisy finished the first plait, then made another of the same kind on the other side of Hattie’s head, joining them together in the back with a pretty green ribbon. The joined braids were fitting for a bride, and they seemed almost to form a crown atop the rest of her hair, which hung in loose waves past her waist. Daisy coaxed a few wispy tendrils to curl alongside Hattie’s face and let it be. “There. That’ll do.”

Hattie got up and headed for the mirror to inspect her new hairstyle. She peered at herself from a few angles and sighed in satisfaction.

“I don’t know how you did it, Daisy, but you made me look almost young again!” Hattie rushed over and wrapped her in a hug. “Thankee!”

“You are young,” Miz Willow piped up. Her face softened. “But I’ll allow as how nice you look with the way Daisy done yore hair.”

“Jamie, time to git dressed!” Daisy began laying out his new clothes.

“You should do yore hair jist like this,” Hattie begged.

“It ain’t fittin’ for the matron of honor,” Daisy protested.
Matron, and me practically the same age as the bride
.

“Yore not weaselin’ out of this. Today is the last day for the Thales sisters to be all done up like each other.” Hattie took Daisy’s hands in hers. “I want you to share this with me, Daisy.”

“I cain’t say no to that.” Daisy gave in before helping Jamie into his Sunday best.

“Good.” Hattie went over to put on her wedding dress, a light grass green that set off her hair and creamy skin.

Daisy pulled Jamie’s shirt on over his head and began to comb his hair, pretending to be completely engrossed in what she was doing as she heard Hattie’s gasp.

“Daisy! When did you …?” She fingered the delicate handmade lace collar adorning her wedding dress.

“It’s what I do, darlin’!” Daisy smiled at the look on Hattie’s face, glad she’d decided to give her one of the lacy collars she made to sell in fancy shops. “I’m jist glad you like it.”

Jamie and I coulda used that money, but good friends are worth more’n gold, and Hattie’s the best there is. She deserves to feel as beautiful as God made her, and I may not have much to my name right now, but I could give her this
.

“It’s beautiful, Daisy!” Hattie slipped into the dress and went over to show Miz Willow. “I don’t know how you do it!” Her face changed as she looked into Daisy’s eyes. “Thankee.”

“Yore welcome, Hattie.” Daisy squeezed her friend’s hand. “I hope today is as special and full of love as yore marriage will be.”
And as mine was
.

“Hold still, Logan!” Bryce gritted, trying to make sense of Logan’s necktie. “You’re jumpier’n a frog.”

“Sorry, Bryce.” Logan looked anything but sorry. He had a grin as big as all get-out on his face. “I’m excited. Today I take Hattie to be my wife.”

“I’m gaining another fine sister-in-law,” Bryce agreed, taking the ends of his brother’s tie once more. Between their efforts, they’d already crumpled the thing past all hope. Somehow Bryce managed to finally work it into a presentable shape.

“And Charleston for our honeymoon—have you seen how excited Hattie is about buying new books for the school-house?” Logan buffed his boots one last time.

“Yep.” Bryce ran a comb through his hair. “Who would’ve thought when I told you to visit Salt Lick Holler that you’d find yourself a bride—much less one who’d found a hidden box of money while cleaning out the loft for us?”

“Lovejoy’s first husband must’ve been quite a clench fist to squirrel away seventy dollars and hide it up in the barn.” Logan mused. “Sure was nice of her to give Miz Willow her old home and even better that she trusted me to spend the money on helping the holler.”

“Just who she is,” Bryce observed. Lovejoy Spencer had been Willow Hendrick’s protégée and the main healer for Salt Lick Holler before coming to California with the new brides and had wound up finding a husband of her own in surly old Daniel. She’d worked wonders for their brother back at Chance Ranch and made a good mother to his children, Polly and Ginny Mae.

If it weren’t for Lovejoy Spencer and the McPherson family, Bryce never would have suggested this trip. As it was, the whole thing had taken a lot of unexpected turns—like how the whole family insisted that Bryce go along. And now Logan was getting married and leaving Bryce behind at Salt Lick Holler while he took his honeymoon trip!

“Funny how things work out.” Bryce shook his head.

“Are you sure you’re okay with staying here until we get back?” Logan peered at him anxiously.

“Yep,” Bryce hastened to reassure his brother. “Besides, I’ll chop enough wood to last you through winter. You could use some more meat in the smokehouse, too, so I’ll be hunting and fishing. I’ll have plenty to keep me busy until you get back.”

A soft melody floated through the air as Hattie began to walk down the aisle. Bryce stood beside his brother and watched. The duties of the best man were few on the surface—stand by and encourage the groom—but deeper truth lay beneath. Today, for the last time, Bryce would be the closest friend to his brother, and for the first time, he would watch as someone else became the most important person in Logan’s life.

Now Hattie would help him, love him, make a home with him, and share the days they were given—as it should be. A man should leave home and cleave to his wife. But Bryce didn’t look forward to going back home. Chance Ranch wouldn’t be the same without his younger brother who always understood what Bryce couldn’t find the words to say.

As Logan looked at his bride, Bryce watched him. His baby brother—the only one younger than Bryce—had grown up right before his eyes. His brother, the scapegrace who managed to find mischief and fun as though he had a compass for it, stood straight and tall, with the love in his heart shining from his face. Coming to Salt Lick Holler had made a man out of the boy, and Bryce had to admit that Hattie had a lot to do with it. She would be a good wife to him, and Logan would be a devoted husband for her.

They exchanged
I dos
, and Bryce snapped out of his reverie. That did it.

Six brothers, but with Logan hitched, I’m the last Chance bachelor
.

As the entire holler and some folks from neighboring Hawk’s Fall sat down to enjoy the wedding feast, Daisy led Jamie to the far end of the tables in one long row for the occasion. She’d love to sit in the middle of the banquet across from Logan and Hattie, but Jamie needed as much space as she could give him. His jerky movements would distract and discomfort others if he sat in the midst of the goings-on. She took the very edge of the bench and lifted him next to her—she couldn’t take the risk that he’d tumble off the end.