The Brides of Chance Collection (43 page)

As she disappeared into the room he’d given up for her, he spurred Speck over to the barn before hitching the horse.
I’m parched
, he told himself as he headed toward the kitchen for a cup. Yep. Being so close, it made sense to go get a cool drink from the pump rather than slug some of the tepid water from his canteen. That was all there was to it. Who could blame him if he stayed a couple of moments to tickle the girls? Good uncles needed to spend time with their nieces, and since the women had arrived, he missed having a day a week with the girls. If Delilah happened to come back into the kitchen while he was there, it’d do no harm to see how she was getting along. He lengthened his stride toward the door.

“Hello, Paul.” Alisa didn’t hide her surprise at seeing him. From the damp towel on the floor by his barefooted niece, he reckoned she’d hauled Ginny Mae from the tub and was just buttoning up the last button. When she made as if to hand the toddler off to Miriam, he quickly intercepted.

Delilah glided into the room like a beam of sunlight carrying a brush. She stopped cold at the sight of him.

“Don’t mind me. I came by for some tacks and thought I’d grab a drink before I got back out there.” He ignored the knowing glance Miriam sent him and forgave her amusement when she jumped in.

“That’s right, and he’s lending a hand with Ginny Mae here for a moment until you’re finished fixing your hair. Take a seat by the fire so your hair will dry a bit faster.”

Delilah nodded and took a seat. Paul busied himself by drying Ginny Mae’s hair, but he watched Delilah gently guide the brush, stroke after stroke, through her magnificent mane. When she started braiding, nimble fingers slipping through and weaving those black tresses, he became transfixed. The agility with which she performed the ritual showed it was a common one, but it seemed intimate since it was something usually done in private. By the time she’d finished putting her hair up, he wanted nothing more than to pull out the pins and run his fingers through it, testing its weight and silky texture.

She went out to the pump and filled a glass with water. As soon as she’d finished, she walked around the table. His breath caught as she stooped beside him and gently took Ginny Mae from his arms, giving him the cool water. She smelled wonderful— like fresh snow and violets.

As he walked back to the barn, he decided that lunchtime couldn’t come soon enough.

Chapter 3

A
fter breakfast the next morning, Delilah followed Miriam into the barn with trepidation. She’d meant it when she said she wanted to learn everything about running the household, but somehow she’d never figured milking cows fit into it. She’d rather be in the vegetable garden with Alisa. Now she’d just have to make the best of it.
I like milk, so that’s something, at least
.

The two creatures shared a large stall. Delilah watched as Miriam set a stool beside one of the beasts, then sat down and motioned for Delilah to come closer. Determinedly, Delilah strode over.

“Ready? First, take hold of one of Mister’s teats, and—”

“Mister?” Delilah cut Miriam off. Even she knew this cow couldn’t possibly be a male.

Miriam grinned. “Polly named them. This one’s ‘Mister’ and the other’s ‘Sir.’ Since she practiced her manners so well, the guys just didn’t have the heart to tell her no.”

It made perfect sense, so Delilah only giggled for a couple of minutes. Then they shifted their attention back to the lesson at hand.

“After you grab a pair, you tug and squeeze. Like this.” A stream of white milk ran into the bucket. “Want to try?”

Not really
. Delilah eyed Mister doubtfully but nodded anyway. Miriam got off the tiny stool so Delilah could perch on it. At least the cow wasn’t moving. She hesitantly reached for the udder.

“That’s it. Now tug downward and squeeze.” Delilah did, and a squirt of milk splashed off the side of the bucket.

“Try to aim it into the bucket.”

Well, why didn’t she say so?
Aiming posed no problem. Delilah compensated and caught the hang of milking in no time. While Delilah finished Mister, Miriam milked Sir, and before long, they completed the task.

“We’ll make fresh butter today,” Miriam decided as they carried their milk pails to the kitchen. They’d just set the buckets on the table when they heard voices outside.

They’d finished driving the herd to the next grazing pasture and were moving the bulls when a raven caught Paul’s eye. Its wings shone the same smoky black as Delilah’s hair. Unfortunately, an ornery bull chose that moment to break free and charge straight for him. After years of tending a ranch, Paul handled this sort of thing often enough, but for once it caught him off guard. He spurred Speck to zig when he should have zagged, and by the time he realized his mistake, he lay on the ground with a sharp pain throbbing up his arm.

Logan and Dan took charge of the bull, and Bryce reached Paul first, only to immediately check on how Speck fared.

“Anything other than a few bumps and bruises?” Gideon’s concerned tone brought little comfort as Paul nodded.

“My arm.” He gritted his teeth and awaited the pronouncement as Gideon prodded.

“Probably broken. We’ll have to take you back to Miriam so she can have a look.” Gideon hefted him up. It took both Bryce and Gideon to help get Paul into Splotch’s saddle; then Gideon gave him a wary look. “You okay to ride?”

“Yeah.”

“You lie just as lousy as you look.” Gideon swung up behind him. Bryce followed with Speck as they rode back to the house.

After the men had gotten off the horse by the house, Miriam and Delilah dashed out to see what had happened. Paul left the explanations to Gideon.

“Speck lost him when they dodged an angry bull. I think he’s broken his arm.”

“Take him on into the kitchen,” Miriam said. Everyone trooped behind, and Paul felt like a first-rate numbskull. How on earth would he prove himself a good protector and provider if he couldn’t manage to stay on a horse? He’d decided after supper last night that Delilah was the woman for him. Maybe it seemed like a quick decision, but Papa had been the same way with Mama, and besides, there were dozens of men to every one woman out here. He needed to act fast. Of course, he’d be going slower now if he’d managed to break his arm. His forearm had already puffed up. Yep, that was attractive, all right.

He took a seat and grimaced as Miriam gently turned his arm. “Can you wiggle your fingers?” He complied, then sucked in a quick breath at the fresh flash of pain. Stupid arm hurt like anything, but the last thing he was gonna do with Delilah standing right beside him was holler about it. He snuck a peek at her face and gained some satisfaction at the expression of compassion on her delicate features.

“I broke my wrist years ago.” She reached out and clasped his good hand. Warmth shot through him, but this time, he enjoyed the tingling sensation.

While he’d been distracted, someone had brought in some straight pieces of wood and bandages. Miriam confirmed Gideon’s assessment.

“You’ve broken your arm, but it seems like a clean break near the wrist. I’ll have to splint it and put you in a sling, Paul. You won’t be able to ride for at least a couple of weeks. For today, I think you should take some of this.” She plunked a glass of water on the table in front of him. From the way Miriam said it, he knew she’d laced it with laudanum. He shook his head.

“I’m not taking that.” Since Delilah had begun holding his hand, the pain had stopped being so sharp.

Miriam retreated. “Paul, we all know you’re a strong man who gives as good as he gets.” That sounded better. He nodded his agreement.

She continued. “Do you remember the first night I came here?” Uh-oh. She’d tricked him. He scowled at her.

“You gave me laudanum after Logan brained me, right?”

He had no choice but to admit it. “What of it?” Now he sounded surly—typically more Dan’s territory than his.

“So if you can give as good as you get, you should be able to take what you give to others.” The pronouncement held no logical flaws, but he gave one last argument.

“I’ll be fine—just fine—without it.” He felt Delilah squeeze his hand, and he turned to her.

“Wise men can admit when they need a little help. There’s no shame in that, but there is some in causing yourself more pain than necessary.” From her serious tone, he realized she spoke from watching her father’s addiction to gambling ruin his life. It also crossed his mind that being stuck around the homestead wouldn’t be such a bad thing for the next month or so. Staying close to the house meant sticking close to her—but only if he wasn’t asleep the whole time. This called for a compromise.

“I’ll be sure and take it before bed to make sure I sleep, but not now. If your argument holds, Miriam, that’s fair since I only gave you laudanum at night.”

Miriam gave in graciously. “I’ll hold you to that, Paul.”

After trussing Paul up like a turkey—his words, not hers—Miriam sent the rest of the men back out to the grazing fields and handed Paul a bucket of slop for the pigs.

“This morning I intended to teach Delilah how to take care of the yard livestock. We’d just finished milking Mister and Sir when you rode up. Alisa’s watching the girls, and I need to start on lunch. I hadn’t gathered the eggs this morning so I could show Delilah. It still needs to be done. The chickens need to be fed and the pigs slopped, too. If you feel up to it, take Delilah with you and teach her. She’s a quick learner.” With that, Miriam shooed them both out of her kitchen.

Delilah found herself standing outside with Paul, trying to decide whether or not she felt happy with the situation. She’d learned long ago not to let herself be caught alone with a man—they couldn’t be trusted. But here she stood. She couldn’t do or say anything to get out of it without insulting Miriam or Paul. Not to mention that of all the brothers, it had to be Paul—the one she was most drawn to and least comfortable around. Well, Dan probably made her more uncomfortable, but Miriam wouldn’t push her into spending time with him.

Why couldn’t it be Bryce, more concerned with his animals, or either Titus or Gideon, who couldn’t keep their eyes off their wives? She’d even prefer Logan, who couldn’t seem to stop himself from staring. Nope, she wasn’t that lucky. Paul, the unexpectedly intriguing giant, broke his arm. She’d even held his hand for some reason she couldn’t recall. The man who gently held Ginny Mae and dried her duck fluff hair, whose touch sent tingles down Delilah’s spine, would teach her to slop pigs.

A lot of thoughts raced through that pretty head. Paul wondered what those thoughts might be. He figured they had something to do with the fact that Delilah wasn’t comfortable being alone with him. As unencouraging as that might be, she’d held his hand earlier while Miriam looked at his arm, which meant that even if chances were slim, they existed. He should say something to set her at ease.

“Shall we go?” It wasn’t exactly a proposal, but it was a start.

Delilah looked at the basket of chicken feed she held. “Do you want to feed the chickens first?”

“Sure. The henhouse is this way.” They walked over to the coop. Actually, calling it a chicken cupboard would be more accurate since its two doors swung on hinges that opened outward. Bryce had invented it years ago. Given that all of the brothers were too big to squeeze into a small aisle in the middle of a crowded coop, he simply made a structure about six feet high with a single wall filled with rows of nesting boxes in the back. As usual, the doors stayed open so the flightless birds could peck around their fenced-in yard during the day.