The Brides of Chance Collection (101 page)

“He’s sleepin’ awful deep. Not very hungry,” the new mother said worriedly.

“That’s normal. It usually takes a day or so, Abby,” Hattie reassured her. “I brung you some fennel seed tea to holp you make plenty of milk.”

“Thankee, Hattie.” Abigail turned to Nate. “Nate, let Hattie hold Bitty Nate.” She smiled happily. “His papa will hardly put him down for a minute.”

“That’s right.” Nate cuddled his son close for a second before carefully handing him to Hattie.

She nestled the tiny babe close to her heart. He smelled like just-dried laundry and newness. His tiny hands and even tinier fingernails were perfect and pink and clean. Dark swirls of hair wisped over the top of his head, and he let out a big yawn from his tiny mouth before dropping off to sleep.

Hattie cherished the moment, snuggling close to the baby and feeling his warm weight in her arms. She’d never have a babe of her own, but she’d been a part of bringing this precious child into the world yesterday. It was enough. It had to be.

Logan waited for Hattie to come back from the Rucker place. He’d walked a ways up so they’d be able to talk in private, but he wasn’t sure how well the meeting was going to go.

She didn’t seem glad to see me. Why did she leave the second I got back, like she couldn’t stand to be in the same room as me? Is she nursing the grievance that I left? Did it hurt her so badly? Wouldn’t that mean she cared for me, if she missed me that much? Will she let me make it up to her?

The questions flooded his mind as he held the ring, warming it in his hands while he waited for Hattie to walk down the road—hopefully into his arms. If felt as though he’d waited for months when he finally saw her coming along the path. She stopped for a moment when she caught sight of him, and something flickered across her face before she kept walking.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Hattie.” Logan’s voice sounded gruff to his own ears, but the words had a double meaning. He hadn’t just waited for her today by the side of the road—he’d been waiting to love her for his entire life.

“I cain see that.” Hattie didn’t look at him, and she kept walking.

“Hey, hold up a minute!” He fell into step beside her. “There’s something I need to talk with you about.”

“Right now?”

“Yes. Now.” He guided her over to a fallen log so they could sit down. “Why are you trying to get away from me, Hattie?”

“I…” She sighed. “Why don’t you say what you have to say, Logan?”

“I know you don’t understand why I left,” he began.

“No, I don’t,” she stated flatly.

“And I can’t tell you yet,” Logan continued.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“It’s a matter of honor,” he tried to explain. “I can’t tell you until I’ve told the others first. I gave my word.”

“And what of yore promise to me, Logan?” She spoke the question softly, but it demanded an answer. “I entrusted you with the holler while I was away.”

“Hattie.” He took her hands in his. “You have to believe me. I didn’t leave
from
the holler. I left
for
the holler. I can see now that my leaving hurt you, Hattie.” He looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry for that.”

“You couldn’t have waited one day?” The small whisper nearly broke his heart.

“No. It would have meant waiting for more than a week. I had to follow through with my responsibilities.”

“Fine, Logan.” She tried to stand up, but he held on tight.

“I came back to you, Hattie.” Silently he begged for her to understand. “I love you. I want you to become my wife.” He brought out the ring and tried to slide it onto her finger.

“No!” She pushed him away. “I cared for you. I trusted you to keep yore word to me, to take care of the others I love. Instead, you went hieing off to Charleston. I cain’t give my hand and heart to a man who gallivants off whenever the notion takes him.” She wiped furiously at her tears. “You spoke of responsibilities. I have many. Even if I did trust that you wouldn’t take off and leave me, I cain’t marry you and leave my people.”

“Hattie!” He tried to stop her, but she ran off. He sank down onto the log.

How did I mess everything up so badly? How can she think I would willingly hurt her and abandon the people she loves? Should I explain myself, or is this Your answer, Lord? I can’t wed a woman who doesn’t trust me. I thought Hattie and I shared something special
.
Where do we go from here, Lord? I love her
.

Hattie ran until she had no more breath and sank down underneath a white pine, sobs wracking her body.

He wants to marry me, and I said no! I love him, and still I said no! Lord, I cain’t leave the holler. I know the work and purpose You’ve given me. But I ache, Jesus. I love him, but
I cain’t rely on him. He’s not grown enough to truly understand responsibility. I cain’t wed a boy with a wandering spirit and a charming smile. How soon would that smile fade and take him away forever—especially when he found out I’d bear him no children?

Father, I’ve done my level best to make peace and be content with what You give me
.
Why do You put temptation in my path? Why put this love in my heart if I cain’t do anything about it? I yearn for a family, Lord. Why am I to be denied a husband? My first marriage held precious little love, and here a man is promising to care for me. And I love him, too. Why do I love the one man who will leave me or force me to leave the place You’ve given me? I don’t understand, but I’m trying so hard to follow Yore will. I love him, but it cain never be. Why?

She whispered again in a broken sob that carried away on the wind, “Why?”

Chapter 22

S
o how’d it go?” Bryce asked later that night as they were heading back to the barn.

Worse than I ever could have imagined
. Logan realized there was no possible way Bryce could know he’d proposed to Hattie—and been rejected.

“What?” He shook his head to clear it.

“Charleston? Frank Tarhill?” Bryce looked at him strangely. “You know, the whole trip. You took off for a walk right after you got back, so you haven’t told me what happened.”

“It went well.” Logan managed a smile at the thought of telling the guys tomorrow. “Frank wants more checker sets and nativities. Bart will take the furs on an ongoing basis for an appreciable fee increase. I also got everything on the list so they could get started. Frank and Bart already paid me for the first installment.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.” Bryce grinned. “Do we get to tell everybody tomorrow?”

Logan thought about how upset he’d made Hattie that evening. It’d be a good idea to give her some space and give them both time to think. He nodded at Bryce.

The next morning they set out to see Otis Nye. They found him squinting at a carved owl, which was squinting right back.

“If you’re in the middle of a staring contest, I have to tell you, Otis, I don’t think you’re going to win.” Bryce grinned as he said it.

“Listen up, whippersnapper,” Otis growled. “I could out-stare you anytime, anyplace.”

“I’ll have to take you up on that someday.” Bryce laughed. “But for now, Logan here came to talk business.”

“Oh?” Otis raised one scraggly white eyebrow.

“How many of those checkerboards do you think you can make, Otis?”

“I’ll be.” A smile broke out across the old man’s craggy face.

“This is your cut for the first two—they both already sold.” Logan handed him a small bag.

Otis opened it with shaky hands, and his mouth dropped open in disbelief. He peered at Logan suspiciously.

“What are you tryin’ to pull?” He pulled himself up and flung the bag back at Logan. “You tryin’ to make me a charity case? Git out.”

“No.” Logan tossed the bag back. “Take that, divide it by two. That’s how much you get for every checkerboard that you make and Frank Tarhill sells. He’s getting just as much profit as you are—more, in fact, since you put in all the time. He’ll pay for the freight costs.”

“Glory be.” The old man turned the coins over in his blue-veined hands. “Thankee, Logan Chance. You, too, Bryce. You tell that Frank fella he jist has to tell me how many he needs.”

After giving Otis his new whittling knife and a can of varnish, Logan and Bryce took their leave. They still had to visit the Pleasants and the Trevors. They came across Asa first.

“Mornin’, Asa.” Logan tried to sound happy in spite of his busted heart.

“Good to see you, Logan. Bryce.” Asa gestured for them to come closer. “What’s the word?” Cautious hope flickered in the man’s eyes as Logan and Bryce grinned at him.

“Frank Tarhill’s customers loved the nativities. He sold two in three days and had another woman come in asking after them.” Logan handed him his money. “She paid in advance, so you’ve already got an order to fill. This is your share of the profits off the three sets.”

“You wouldn’t be pulling my leg, would you, boys?” Asa looked at the cash in shock.

“Nope.” Logan clapped him on the back. “Frank wants to know how many you can make per month and still have them be of the same quality.”

“I don’t know.” Asa shook his head in disbelief. “It were jist a hobby afore. He wants more? At this price?”

“That’s right. Frank thinks they’ll sell particularly well around Christmas, so he wants you to be ready to fill a big order by winter.” Logan grinned. “He says that since you put in all the work for half the profit, he’ll pay for the freight costs.”

“By the way,” Bryce added, “Otis Nye carves mighty fine checkerboards. Frank’s put in an order for those, too.” He handed Asa another whittling knife and can of varnish, just as they’d given to Otis. “We figure you two might keep each other company while you work sometime.”

“Thankee.” Asa still looked stunned. “I’ll be shore to do that.”

When they got to the Trevor place, Ted and Fred took one look at their grins and started whooping.

“Good news is a-comin’—I cain tell by the look on yore faces.” Ted, Logan guessed, gave an excited jump.

“Like the cat with a saucer of cream,” Fred agreed.

“You’re right.” Logan handed them their money and started going over the prices Bart Rumsford was willing to pay for the various pelts.

“No foolin’?” Their jaws hung open.

“No fooling,” Bryce repeated, then handed them their package. “So we thought you could use a few more traps.”

“You boys come on with us to put them out,” they insisted.

In no rush to get back to the healers’ place, Logan decided to go along. Bryce came, too. They made their way around the hills to the places where the twins promised they’d had the most success this time of year.

On their way back for something to eat, they heard someone yell. A single gunshot followed. Without a word, all four men raced in the direction of the noise. The closer they got, the more screams they heard.

Hattie scrubbed at a spot on her yellow dress, rattling the washboard. She welcomed the hard work—it gave her hands something to do and her head something to focus on besides Logan. He and Bryce had started off right after breakfast, during which Logan hadn’t said but two words.

The strong fumes of the lye stung her eyes and nose. She sniffed and blinked back tears as she took the now-clean dress over to the rinsing water, but even without the lye, she had a hard time stopping the tears.