The Brides of Chance Collection (68 page)

“I could go,” Miriam volunteered once again.

Daniel glowered at her. “Your hands are full enough. You’re watching my girls, and Delilah’s too sick of a morning to lift her head off her pillow.”

“I need you to keep Alisa from overexerting,” Titus added.

“And no one but you can feed Caleb,” Gideon finished as he handed her their infant.

“You men planned that. I can tell!”

“Auntie Miri-Em, are they being Chance men again?” Polly asked.

“Yes, we are.” Daniel set the girls down. “And you are to be Chance girls. That means you’re to be nice to each other and obey your aunts.”

“You ’ready told us to be good,” Ginny Mae said.

“Daddy, you going to see Miss Lovejoy?”

“I’ll be busy building. I’m not visiting with the women.”

“My mouse got untied.” Polly fished the scrap of material from her pocket. “Will you ask her to make it again?”

“I’ll try to remember.” He tucked it in his pocket and forgot all about it when they reached the MacPherson ranch and started building the cabins.

Plenty of men showed up to help, just as they had on the day Chance Ranch built cabins. Coming here and helping out was part of paying back a debt. It wasn’t his debt—he hadn’t wanted Miriam to stay on Chance Ranch and didn’t help with the construction. Then again, the MacPhersons hadn’t lived in Reliable at the time, so they hadn’t helped, either. That didn’t much matter, though. Folks here banded together. Lent a helping hand. Favors were bartered, and every last man here knew if he needed assistance, folks would turn out for him.

The MacPhersons hadn’t anticipated building three more cabins this soon, so their supply of logs would be insufficient. Logan and Bryce had both gone over the past three days to help fell trees. They’d reported that other men had also shown up to do the same. By the time the work teams showed up on Thursday, they had enough logs to build two.

“Gonna need us more timber,” Hezzy commented as everyone gathered to discuss the plan.

“We’re nigh unto tripping over each other.” Daniel scanned the crowd. Word had spread that there were several unmarried women at the MacPhersons’. Plenty of the men in the area figured that until the happy couples found their way to the altar, an opportunity still existed to get a woman to change her heart and mind. A handful of those men were already making pests of themselves.

“Todd Dorsey. Aaron Greene. Hookman.” Daniel rapped their names out. “Marv Wall and Garcia—you men, too. Let’s let these scrawny men build the cabins. We’ll apply ourselves to downing more timber.”

“You callin’ me scrawny?” Obie’s eyes narrowed.

Logan cackled. “I’d call you love struck.”

Things were well under way by noontime. Obie let out a shrill whistle and then hollered, “Grub’s up!”

Gideon went through the line and filled his plate. Lovejoy smiled at him. “It shore was kindly of yore missus to let us borry her plates. Don’t rightly know what we woulda done.”

“You put out a fine spread. Men would have stood at the table and eaten with their hands.” Gideon chuckled and snagged the last biscuit.

Lovejoy called, “Eunice, get t’other basket of buns. These men need plenty of vittles to keep a-buildin’ your place.” Giving Daniel a steady look, she lowered her voice. “That was a right fine thing you done today. Mostly, these men’re fine bucks, but a couple…” She shook her head. “They was a givin’ me fits.”

“Lonely men do foolish things.” He grabbed a biscuit from the new basket and strode off.

By the end of the day, three new cabins stood on the MacPherson ranch. Men straggled away, but Dan stayed behind. “Reckon yore here to claim the dishes,” Eunice or Lois said. He hadn’t yet figured out a way to tell them apart.

He nodded.

“Lovejoy and Tempy are packin’ ’em up in the old cabin.”

Daniel went to the door of the “old” cabin and stood in the doorway like a slackjawed wantwit. He’d already seen the extensive gardening the women had accomplished in one slim week. This cabin showed a level of industry he couldn’t fathom. Leaves, flowers, roots, and small bags hung from the roof. A bowl on the table held an arrangement of grapes, oranges, and cinnamon sticks. A wreath of drying flowers dangled from the buck’s antlers over the fireplace.

“Take a seat.” Tempy waved toward a chair. “We’ll be done with the dishes in a trice.”

Daniel watched Lovejoy tuck a dish towel between a pair of plates and remembered Polly’s request. He yanked the scrap of material from his pocket. “When you’re finished, could you please make a mouse for Polly again?”

“ ’Course I will. Want me to show you how?”

Daniel shook his head. He’d already tried, though he’d never confess it to a soul. Bitsy things like that never worked right for a man with big hands.

“Bryce said the lassies lost their cough and are right as rain.” Lovejoy looked up at him and smiled when he nodded, then she went back to handling the plates with uncommon care. “Never seen me such pretty dishes. China, they are, delicate as a bird egg, but all a-matched up. You Chance men take mighty fine care o’ yer women.”

“I counted. Forty-five plates.” Tempy handed the last one to her sister.

Daniel’s gaze went from Lovejoy’s hands to a shelf just over her shoulder that held a jumble of wooden, pewter, and glass dishware. He looked back at the blue willow plate Lovejoy dried so carefully. “Two dozen were my mother’s. Alisa inherited the other half. They’re a mite different, but the same company made them and the color’s the same.”

“Staffordshire,” Lovejoy read from the bottom of the plate in a reverent voice. “Please give your women our thanks for sharing their finery.” After packing it in with the others, she smiled up at him. “Now how ’bout I make you a mouse?”

The light brown square looked much bigger in her hands than it did in his. In a mind-boggling series of intricate folds, tucks, flips, and knots, it became Polly’s mouse again. “You cain make this little feller move and jump if you hold him jist so and do this.” She demonstrated cradling him in her hand and coordinating a stroke and carefully timed squeeze. Sure enough, the mouse wiggled and flipped.

He grinned at the sight.

“Dan, you ready to push off?” Paul was leaning against the doorjamb.

“Paul Chance!” Lovejoy called over to him. “How’s Delilah’s belly?”

Delilah’s belly?
Daniel nearly choked at her coarse question.

“She’s sick as can be morning, noon, and night.” Paul’s mouth tightened with worry. “Have any suggestions?”

“That poor gal. She sippin’ ginger tea like I tole her to?”

“Yes.” Paul’s shoulders slumped.

“She keepin’ anything down a-tall?”

“Not much.”

Lovejoy crossed the cabin and picked up a forked stick. She used it to hook the strings on a small muslin bag hanging from the ceiling. “I’ll mix up some tea. Y’all have any melons?”

“Yes.” Paul and Daniel exchanged puzzled looks.

“Real problem is her growin’ parched. Boil a teaspoon of this till the brew turns the same color as this here leaf I’m putting in the jar. I want her to have a cup of tea laced with honey every other hour. Try her eatin’ melon. It’s mostly juice, but it might sit in her belly better than the tea. Tell her I’ll be holdin’ her up to Jesus, and you come git me if ’n she don’t start keeping more down.”

Paul accepted the half-pint jar she’d put in his hands.

Daniel hefted the crate of dishes and made sure the little cloth mouse peeping out of the edge wouldn’t fall out. Polly would be delighted to have that simple toy again. “Let’s go.”

“Y’all ride safe. Afore ye go, I wanna say I niver seen a man wield an ax like you did this day, Dan’l Chance. Them trees left standin’ out there are prob’ly gonna start a-shuddering in fear when you ride past.”

At first her praise sat nice, but as Daniel rode home, he changed his mind. That little widow had plenty to say, but it was always good. Such compliments and flattery from a woman added up to only one thing—she aimed to nab herself a husband. Daniel determined then and there to keep his distance.

Chapter 8

T
here, now. Such a grand girl you are,” Lovejoy crooned to the sorrel mare Obie lent her for the day as she saddled her. The girls were busy hitching a pair of sturdy workhorses to the buckboard so they could all go to town.

Yesterday the men worked from can-see to can’t to make up for the house buildin’ day. The gals worked alongside their men as was fitting—taking care of the barn critters, mucking stalls, gardening, milking, collecting eggs. They’d dug right in and done more baking and laundry, too.

“We ’spected you’d be fixin’ the houses today,” Obie told them at supper.

“We picked the feed sacks we liked the best to make curtains,” Lois said.

“Until you all speak your vows, these gals are gonna sleep in this cabin.” Lovejoy set down the law. “You men cain decide if you want to all pile down together in one of them cabins or out in the barn. That way you’ll all avoid temptation.”

No one argued with her, and to her utter amazement, Mike said, “I paid White for potbelly stoves. He’s only got one in stock, so he’ll bring all three up soon as the others arrive.”

As if that news hadn’t been enough to stun them, Hezzy dug around in his pockets and dropped five double eagles on the table. “We ain’t had time to make furniture and sech. Mike says yore gonna need stuff. This’ll be our weddin’ gift to you.”

The three brides stared at the gleaming coins in shocked silence. One hundred dollars. Lovejoy doubted any of them had ever held more than two bits.

“Go on with you now,” Obie said. “Lest you think we’re rich, though, best you know that’s ’bout the last of what we got.”

Tempy shoved it back. “We got what we truly need. You keep that and send it to your pa through the comin’ years.”

Lois and Eunice held on to one another. Though their faces were pale as dandelion fluff, they both nodded. “Kin comes first.”

Mike took Tempy’s wrist and turned over her hand. One by one, he stacked the glittering twenty-dollar gold coins there. “When a man and woman marry up, they put each other first, above all. We got faith that the good Lord’s going to provide. He’s never failed us. Now you go spend smart, sweetheart.”

Spend smart. The girls were up most of the night assessing what they’d brought and what the men already had on hand, then making a list. Lovejoy tried to stay out of their discussion. They were grown women, and they needed to be making their own decisions. Judging from the list Tempy carried in her pocket, they’d proven themselves worthy of that trust.

Lord, those gals are heading toward the altar. Their hearts and minds are set, and from all I see, the men are good ’uns. Don’t let me be blinded by this wealth of supplies or smooth talkin’. If there’s reason for any of these couples not to wed, I’m beggin’ Thee, please drive them asunder right quick
.

Daniel got a sinking feeling as he rode Cooper up to the MacPherson cabin. It didn’t look like anyone was home. Asking for help went against his grain. He hated relying on anyone, but he had no choice.

By breakfast, he knew he couldn’t ask Miriam to watch the girls. Their coughs had returned with a vengeance and turned into nasty colds. Miriam’s baby was cranky and feverish, too. Paul said Delilah was so green around the gills, she could barely lift her head off her pillow, and Alisa wasn’t weathering her pregnancy any better. The way she looked reminded Daniel of how bad his Hannah had gotten whilst carrying Ginny Mae. He finally admitted to himself that his plan to avoid the Widow Spencer wasn’t going to work.

So he bit the bullet, came seeking help—and no one was home.
Maybe she and the brides-to-be were all chattering up a storm and didn’t hear me
. Dish towels flapped in the breeze on the clothesline, but that was the only sound. He knocked, opened the door of the main cabin, and found it empty.
Not empty, vacant
, he corrected himself. Lovejoy’s “yarbs” filled the place.

Faint singing made him shut the door and turn around. Sopranos were singing “Oh, how I love Jesus.” With their accent, it sounded more like, “Oh, how Ah luuv Jay– sus.” This time the hillbilly accent brought relief. The women were in the stable—well, make that coming out of the stable.

Daniel noticed none of the gals on the seat of the buckboard was Lovejoy. He looked at Tempy. “Where’s your sister?”

“I’m right here, Dan’l Chance.” Lovejoy rode straight to him then skillfully nudged her horse to sidestep so as not to have it splash in a puddle near his feet. Her smile faded. “What’s a-wrong?”

“Is it Delilah?” Tempy asked.

“Yore little girls?” the other two asked in unison.

“Both, and Miriam’s little Caleb’s taken ague, and Alisa’s just too puny. Can you come check on them?”

“ ’Course I will. Lemme fetch my healin’ satchel.”

Not wanting to waste any time, he lifted her out of the saddle and set her to earth away from the mud. She scurried into the cabin and called over her shoulder, “Don’t you worry yourself so hard, Dan’l. Ain’t nobody bleedin’ or dyin’.”

As far as reassurances went, it was as odd as the woman who gave it, but it worked. Relief flooded him.