The Brides of Chance Collection (14 page)

“Well, we’re getting you material in town. You’re gonna sew yourself a fancy pink dress.”

“Gideon, I can’t. I promised I’d make myself look different from my sister.”

“Dan can go fly a kite. You already pile your hair up on your head so you don’t wear a bun at your nape like Hannah did. Besides, your hair’s warm like the sun, and hers was pale. I don’t want you thinking I’m being too personal or being harsh, but Hannah—well, she had two babes in three years. Betwixt them, she never did trim down. Dan must’ve been sun-blinded when he first mistook you for your sis. It’s high time you stopped trying to waltz on eggshells to please him and did what you want to make yourself happy.”

Miriam smiled at him. “But Gideon, I am happy.”

“No, you’re not. You’re just accustomed to being content with settling for scraps.”

Sunday arrived. Men came and sang hymns as best they could remember, though the lyrics took on more creativity than Miriam had imagined possible. Titus scrounged up a guitar Miriam hadn’t yet seen and proved to be quite talented. Gideon read from the Bible about letting your light shine, and Chris Roland stood up and spoke from his heart about living a “God-fearin’, devil-forsakin’ life.” Paul rose to say a closing prayer, and Rusty hollered, “Tack on thanks for the grub. We’re hungry and want to belly up to the table straightaway.”

Miriam didn’t look, but she suspected Gideon fought to keep from chuckling. As soon as Paul finished the prayer, she hastened into the kitchen. Gideon hadn’t let her near the stove to cook anything earlier this morning. She’d prepared each pot on the table. Then a Chance brother had transferred it to the stove. Now Gideon carried every last pot back to the table.

Soon she was dishing up meals and handing a filled plate to each man as he walked in from the back door and left through the front. Succotash, rice, roast, and gravy. The banker, Pete Rovel, came through for thirds.

“That Sunday supper did it,” Logan moaned five days later. Each and every meal, they had callers. The men avidly listened to the Bible stories Miriam told the girls. They seemed even more interested in what Miriam planned to put on the table.

By Friday, Gideon glowered at three visitors and sent them packing. When he turned to the table, his eyes narrowed. Miriam kept posies on the table all the time, but they were always wildflowers from a patch here or there around the property. Three yellow roses filled the jar today.

“Marv Wall brung them for Miriam,” Bryce tattled.

Gideon looked at his brothers and drummed his fingers on the table. “Miriam, you need to put the girls to bed tonight.”

She gave him a baffled look. Daniel insisted on tucking his daughters into bed each night.
What is Gideon up to?

“We’ve got to do something. I don’t want these men to keep calling on Miriam.” Gideon paced in the barn.

Logan beat the heels of his scuffed boots on the bale of hay he sat upon. “She’s workin’ herself silly, cookin’ for them.”

“She’s cooking anyway,” Paul pointed out. “To my mind, it’s more a matter that we can’t afford to feed all of Reliable.”

“Rusty had her writing a letter for him yesterday, and Dorsey talked her into mending his stinkin’ socks,” Gideon rasped. “She’s not their wife. They have no call, counting on her to do those things.”

“She does it for us,” Titus said quietly.

“I can write my own letters!” Bryce objected. He then muttered, “Just don’t have a body to mail stuff to.”

“I told you letting her stay here was a mistake.” Daniel glowered at them all. “You didn’t listen. Now you have a peck of trouble, and I want no part of it.” He turned and walked out of the barn. The door shut with great finality.

“If that don’t beat all.” Logan scowled. “Betcha he’s going straight back into his cottage and sending Miriam scurrying away.”

“The last thing she needs to know is that we’re talking about her.” Hay shifted and whispered under Gideon’s boots as he continued to restlessly measure the length of the barn. “Roses. Marv had to go clear into San Francisco to bring those to her. It’s serious.”

“I told you, you ought to marry up with her, Giddy.” Bryce folded his arms across his chest. “Seems that one of the Chance men ought to.”

“Dan’s excluded,” Paul said at once. “He’s hurting too bad, and it’s not fair to Miriam.”

“And,” Titus continued in the same vein, “we have to rule out Logan and Bryce because they’re just plain too young. That leaves you, me, and Gideon.”

“I reckon it’s necessary.” Paul cracked his knuckles. “Not my first choice, but definitely doable. I’m willing to draw straws for her.”

Titus started to chuckle as he took three strands of straw and handed them to Logan. “Seems pretty hilarious to me. After all, our name is Chance. I’ve got a one-in-three chance of snagging a bride—and a pretty one at that—without having to fuss with getting all duded up and making a fool of myself, going courting.”

Gideon gritted his teeth as Logan lined up the straws and broke one far shorter than the others with a flourish. Anger coursed through him that his brothers would concoct such a “solution” to this problem. “You’re all out of line.”

Logan shrugged. “You’re the one who always tells us to think things through. Someone’s gotta marry up with her. Why not one of us?”

“Because she’s family, not a brood mare.” Gideon stared at them. “You don’t treat a woman like this!”

“Nothing much is changing. She’s already willing to stay and work,” Logan reasoned. “And we all like her just fine—well, all of us but Daniel.”

“Daniel doesn’t like anybody,” Bryce tacked on.

“If anything, we’re truly making her family instead of a free maid.” Paul nodded at Logan. “Let’s get on with it.”

Logan positioned the straws in his fist and held them aloft. “Who’s first?”

Gideon swiped all three straws from his brother’s hand, cast them down, and ground them beneath his boot. “I won’t have it. No one’s drawing straws for Miriam’s hand. A woman deserves to be courted and cared about.”

Titus leaned back against a post and shoved his hands into his pockets. A lazy smile tilted his face. “So…you volunteering, Gideon?”

Chapter 13

H
ere. I’ve got it.” Gideon nudged Miriam to the side and hefted the kettle of oatmeal. He thumped it onto the center of the table.

“I’m fine, Gideon. Truly.” Ever since she’d burned her arm, he’d hovered over her. That day when they went to town, he’d bought material for two dresses for her—two! As if that wasn’t enough, he’d gotten the one and only bit of lace Mrs. White had in the store. Each time he was in the house and Miriam got near the stove, he acted antsy. “Gideon, that little burn is long since healed.”

“Nonsense.” He swiped the coffeepot from the stove and headed back to the table. “You got singed from your wrist to your…” He made a slashing mark across his own upper arm.

Miriam let out a silent sigh of relief. It wouldn’t have been proper for him to mention her elbow or upper arm. He and the older brothers seemed a bit better about such matters. Bryce and Logan often said things that weren’t suitable for mixed company.

“She’s kept it hidden ’neath her sleeves. Even if it was hurting, I doubt she’d tell us.” Titus sat down at the table.

“You can show me, Auntie Miri-Em.”

“It’s fine, Polly. Now would you like butter and sweetening in your porridge or cream and cinnamon?” Miriam thought she’d successfully steered the conversation in a different direction until breakfast was over and the men headed out to work.

Gideon alone remained. He waited until she’d wiped Ginny Mae’s sticky face and put her down to crawl, then he towered over her.

“Did you need something?”

He gave no warning. With surprisingly nimble fingers, he unbuttoned her cuff and started to carefully roll up her sleeve.

“Gideon!”

“Don’t get all prissy on me. You roll up your sleeves to wash dishes and do laundry.” He ruched the sleeve higher and made an exasperated sound. “It’s still red.”

“Auntie Miri-Em’s arm isn’t all better?”

“Not yet, dumplin’.”

“I know why.”

Oh boy. She’s going to blab about what I’ve been doing
.

“Why?” Gideon didn’t look at his niece. His blue eyes narrowed and grew icy as he stared at Miriam.

“ ’Cause nobody kissed her better.”

“I’m a big girl. I don’t need—”

“Of course you do. You kissed me all better when my eye was hurt.” Gideon took hold of her hand and lifted it. Instead of planting a quick peck on her hand, he slowly turned her hand over and brushed his lips on the inside of her wrist.

Miriam gasped and tried to pull away.

Gideon kept hold. “Still tender, sweet pea?” Instead of letting go, he pursed his lips and blew across her wrist. “There. That’ll make the sting go away.”

“Unca Giddy? That maded Auntie Miri-Em’s face get all burny-red.”

“Tell you what, half-pint. I’ll lift you up. You kiss one cheek, and I’ll kiss the other. Think that’ll make Miriam all better?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Just fine.” Desperately Miriam tried to make her voice sound breezy, but it came out in nothing more than a croak.

Gideon ignored her protest. He scooped up Polly and held her out to give Miriam a kiss. Miriam leaned forward, figuring she could play along this far. Polly gave her a sloppy peck and giggled.

Though Gideon put their niece down, Miriam was stuck because Ginny Mae was clinging to her skirts. “Virginia,” Miriam said, stooping at once to lift the unsteady toddler. “Come on up here.”

Gideon crooked a brow at her, then glanced at Ginny Mae. “You’ve got things topsy-turvy, Miss Miriam. Usually kids hide behind a woman’s skirts.”

His words echoed in her mind as he walked out the door. Miriam wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

By suppertime Miriam still hadn’t managed to think through the situation. She’d pulled weeds in the garden with a vengeance, hoping that might relieve the tension. Ginny Mae and Polly got so filthy “helping” her, she had to bathe them both. Grinding meat and then squishing it to make meatloaf only managed to weary her body. Her mind still returned to how Gideon kissed her wrist after breakfast.

It was the oddest thing. Gideon had acted…well, different. Attentive. Since the day she arrived, Miriam had appreciated what a stalwart man he proved to be. Dependable. Good-hearted. Rough around the edges but hardworking. Then, too, after she scratched the surface, she’d come to understand he feared the Lord and did his best to live an upright life.
Is he paying more mind to me, or is it just my imagination?

The Lord knew the desires of her heart—a husband and a family of her own—but the way things had worked out, those didn’t seem to be in His will. She figured she would become a spinster aunt to little Polly and Ginny Mae.
I’m doubtlessly making a fool of myself. Gideon was just being kind, and I could ruin what’s turned out to be a pleasant arrangement. I won’t get to wed anyone, but at least I can count myself blessed to have a man like Gideon to champion me and to have these darling little girls to rear
.

All during supper, she tried to act normally, but sitting next to Gideon made her nervous. Finally, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her still. “Stop popping up and down like a jack-in-a-box. If someone wants something, he can just go fetch it for himself.”