The Brides of Chance Collection (94 page)

“Cut it out!” Bryce cracked one eye open to glower at him.

“Sure.” Logan watched his brother close his eye again and try to burrow under the covers. He flicked more water. “Soon as you get up!”

“You can’t blame a guy for wanting to prolong the best night’s sleep he’s had in three days.” Bryce flung back his blankets. “After all, I had to sleep with your feet in my face in that loft!”

“And your feet were in mine. It was the only way we could both lie down without one of us running the risk of rollin’ off.” Logan started to shave. “We’ve got church this morning, so we’ll meet the rest of the people from the holler. You’d best get going.”

“All right, all right.” Bryce rummaged through the trunk to pull out their Sunday best.

“What’re you doin’?” Logan stopped him. “We’ve got to muck out the barn before we get dressed for church. Come on.”

While they worked, Hattie came out to gather eggs. Logan stopped for a minute to look at her. Something was different….

“What’d you do to your hair?” He blurted the question before he had a chance to stop himself. It was none of his business how she wore her hair. But it was all scraped back and pinned up so tight. Where was her long dancing braid the color of a sunrise?

“Hmmm?” Hattie shut the chicken coop and raised a hand to smooth back her hair. “Is it coming down?”

“No,” Logan muttered. “It just looks different, is all.”

“Of course it does!” She smiled at him and Bryce. “I cain’t go to the Lord’s house with my hair hangin’ down my back in a braid. That’s only passable for a young gal.” She went to get the pail of milk since Logan had made a habit of doing that chore for her.

“You are young.” Bryce joined the conversation.

“Kind of you to say so, but I’m no spring chicken.” Hattie picked up the pail. “I’m a widow.”

How did I manage to forget that she’s had a husband? Maybe because she’s like no widow
I’ve ever met. I reckon scrapin’ back your crowning glory isn’t so awful when you’re of Miz
Willow’s age, but Hattie? Now that’s a crime
.

“You both come on inside when yore finished here. Breakfast’ll be on the table.” With that, she left.

Telling himself it was a good thing she was gone so he couldn’t stick his foot in his mouth again, Logan focused on the work at hand. He finished mucking out the stalls, then climbed the ladder to change. By the time he and Bryce left the barn, his stomach was growling.

As he filled up on country-fried potatoes and poached eggs, Logan reconsidered Hattie’s Sunday getup. Her green dress wasn’t faded like the yellow and blue he’d seen her wear for everyday, and it swirled a little at the bottom edge when she turned around. He still didn’t like her hair pinned up, but the style did show off her slender neck and little ears. He was just wondering whether or not she could still carry her knife when she caught him looking.

“Ahem.” He cleared his throat and turned to Miz Willow. “Couldn’t help but notice how nice you ladies look this morning.” He smiled at both of them.

“Thankee, Logan.” Miz Willow beamed and smoothed the white wisps escaping her bun. “Nice of you to notice. I reckon everyone’ll be gussied up today. Hattie and me need to hold our own.”

Hattie shook her head but patted the old woman’s hand. “You’d shore give any fella a run for his money iff ’n he came sniffin’ around, Miz Willow. But I wouldn’t know what to do without you, so don’t be gettin’ any crazy notions.”

“Heh, heh.” The widow slapped her knee. “That I would, dearie. That I would.” She smiled fondly at Hattie. “But I won’t be batting my eyelashes at any whippersnapper who smiles my way.”

Logan couldn’t help but think Miz Willow wasn’t the widow he’d like to hear that promise from.

It was a fairly short walk to the schoolhouse where they held church every Sunday. Hattie walked beside Miz Willow, holding her arm to keep her steady on the uneven road. Logan and Bryce walked on each side of them.

They were looking mighty handsome this morning. Hattie wasn’t quite sure whether she’d forgotten how good-looking the brothers were while they were at Hawk’s Fall or if it was their Sunday clothes.

When they got to the schoolhouse, women would be swarming all around them. Logan and Bryce’s visit would be the high point of the year—whether or not they ended up hitched.

She knew they wouldn’t. She loved the holler and wouldn’t dream of leaving it, but Logan and Bryce were used to finer manners. She was well aware of how unpolished they all sounded, but these were her people. She knew Logan and Bryce were glad to visit, but the holler would never be home to them the way Chance Ranch was.

A crowd of people milled around the front of the building, and Hattie could tell when everybody caught sight of the Chance brothers. They stopped talking for a minute, then started whispering furiously.

Silk Trevor came up to them immediately, her husband and sons close on her heels. They exchanged a warm welcome—hugs for Hattie and Miz Willow from Silk and a lot of shoulder slapping and hand shaking among the men. Mary Pleasant came up to join them. Her husband, Asa, would be filling in for the circuit-riding parson today.

Hattie saw Nessie walking from the distance and motioned for her to come over. Rooster was nowhere in sight, as he hadn’t been for the past two Sundays. Hattie hoped he would show up today after his first meeting with Logan and Bryce.

Lizzie and Sky Pleasant stood over with the Cleary sisters and a few other young ladies. At least they knew to wait for an introduction. After the service, everyone would stay around to chat and laugh before heading home to supper. Then she could introduce the Chances to Otis Nye and Li’l Nate Rucker—not to mention the Clearys.

They all moved into the schoolhouse, where benches formed rows down the narrow room. Hattie steered Nessie to her and Miz Willow’s customary bench. Since Nessie’s sister Goody had married up and joined the Peasley pew, Lovejoy had gone to California, and Rooster had stopped attending regularly, there wasn’t a Linden bench any longer.

With the Chance men, it was a much tighter fit than usual, but they managed. Asa stood at the front and opened with prayer before asking them to rise.

His deep baritone led them in “Forth in Thy Name.” The hymn, one of Hattie’s favorites, swelled in the small schoolhouse:

“The task Thy wisdom hath assigned
,

O let me cheerfully fulfill;

In all my works Thy presence find
,

And prove Thy good and perfect will.”

She loved the way a hymn could speak for so many. Every person had a task, but each was different. The words encouraged her, calling her to be a healer. When Hattie helped ease suffering or bring new life into the holler, she knew she was serving to carry out God’s will.

Asa led them in “My Hope Is Built.” The men and women sang in turns and joining in the chorus:

“On Christ the solid Rock I stand
,

All other ground is sinking sand….”

Hattie could hear Logan’s rumble from where he sat on Miz Willow’s left. The way his deep voice melded with her higher notes reminded Hattie that harmony came in many different forms.

The Chance brothers sounded different from the folks of the holler, but in the Lord, they all were joined in the family of God.

Chapter 14

L
ogan could pick out Hattie’s soft soprano alongside Miz Willow’s wavery alto. As they all worshipped, he was struck by the power of God’s love to join people together in the bonds of faith. These folks weren’t only part of Logan’s adventure—they were part of God’s plan for his life. He just didn’t know how. The uncertainty made him shift a little on the bench as Asa began the sermon on the sixteenth Psalm. He was glad Asa had chosen to speak on one of King David’s psalms; the verses of praise in the Word of God never failed to give him focus. Asa talked for a bit on the joy and hope of having the Lord’s guidance before reading directly from the Scriptures.

“Verse eleven is David praising God directly: ‘Thou wilt shew me the path of life: in thy presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore.’ ” Asa paused for a moment to let those words sink in before expounding on them. “We cain only fulfill our purpose iff ’n we follow the path God lays for us. Only then can we feel the full joy of His presence in our lives and be firm in our hope for the future.”

And there it was. Logan sat up a bit straighter. He’d follow the path as far as he could see and trust the Lord for whatever lay beyond the next curve. Not knowing what came next was a part of the adventure, but knowing God controlled it was part of life.

Asa closed in prayer, and the service ended. Everyone stood up and shuffled toward the door. People milled around, catching up with the families they didn’t see during the course of the week. Tiny girls with string bows in their pigtails took turns on the swings and seesaw while young boys chased each other, stopping only to pick up their hats when they fell off.

Hattie braced Miz Willow’s arm and walked over to Abigail Rucker, gesturing for them to follow her. A hulking man stood protectively next to the heavily expectant woman. Logan wondered if he was her brother, since he remembered Hattie saying Abigail’s husband was little.

“Logan and Bryce Chance, you’ve already met Abigail Rucker.” Hattie nodded toward the giant. “This is her husband, Li’l Nate.”

Little? There was nothing tiny about the man whose beefy hand all but squeezed the life out of Logan’s in a hearty shake.

“Nice to meet you both.” Li’l Nate beamed. “Abby told me you’d come to town. Wish I’d been around when you stopped by, but I was working at the smithy.”

“You’re the blacksmith.” That made sense.

“Why do they call you Li’l Nate?” Bryce’s curiosity got the better of him.

“Big Nate were my pa and the blacksmith afore me.” Li’l Nate grinned. “It’s from when I were growin’ up, and it jist stuck.”

“Li’l Nate’s the best harmonica player in these hills.” Hattie turned to him. “Logan and Bryce got two shiny new harmonicas but don’t know how to work ’em.”

“I’d be tickled to teach you boys,” Not-So-Li’l Nate offered.

“Thanks!” Logan and Bryce answered in unison.

“Why don’t you and Abigail come on back to our place for Sunday supper?” Miz Willow invited. “It’d break up yore walk a bit, an’ you could give ’em a few pointers. Otis Nye’ll be joinin’ us.”

“Thankee kindly.” Abigail rested her hands on her back. “I’d be glad to eat someone else’s cookin’!”

While that was settled, Logan saw a thick-waisted woman with salt-and-pepper hair make a beeline toward them. She all but shoved Hattie to one side to break into the circle.

“Mornin’, Miz Willow.” The woman gazed at him and Bryce out of the corner of her eye. “I see yore visitors came back from Hawk’s Fall,” she simpered.

“Yore right at that, Bethilda.” Miz Willow’s eyes twinkled. “Bethilda Cleary, meet Logan and Bryce Chance from Californy.”

“Nice to meet you.” Logan and Bryce took off their hats. Logan watched in disbelief as the woman sank into an awkward curtsy.

“Pleased to make yore acquaintance, sirs.” Bethilda gave an unctuous grin. “It’s shore a pleasure to have fine gentlemen visit our humble holler. Shame we didn’t meet sooner.” She shot a quick glare at Hattie.

Logan could see Bryce shift next to Li’l Nate, whose eyebrows reached near his hairline. One thing was clear: Bethilda Cleary was not the most pleasant of the holler inhabitants. But what could she want from them?

“I had hoped you handsome brothers would take an invite to Sunday supper so my family could get to know you.”

Logan followed her gaze to a pair of young girls. One couldn’t have been more than fourteen.

Bryce wouldn’t look at Bethilda, and Logan saw Hattie shaking her head slightly but urgently. Now he saw which way the wind blew, and it was time to get out of the draft.

“Thank you for thinking of us, but we’ve already made arrangements.” Logan kept the refusal as polite as possible.

“Oh, well, Miz Willow and Hattie won’t mind, I’m shore.” Bethilda trilled a fake laugh and shot another glare toward Hattie. “They’ve had you all to theyselves, haven’t they?”

“No, ma’am. We’ve been meeting up with kin and have gotten to know the Trevors, Pleasants, and MacPhersons,” Logan ground out. It was obvious the woman wanted to accuse Hattie of setting her cap for one of them. Ridiculous. Hattie was the one who had warned them about the likes of Bethilda Cleary.

“Spent half our time in Hawk’s Fall,” Logan went on. “And even if our plans only concerned Miz Willow and Hattie—”

“Which they don’t,” Bryce tacked on.

“We’d be hard-pressed to give up their company,” Logan finished.

“I see.” A steely glint lit Bethilda’s gaze.

“I’m to learn ’em on the harmonica, Miz Cleary.” Li’l Nate steered her attention to himself. “So as they’ll be ready for the doin’s.”

“Wonderful!” Bethilda was all smiles once again. “But we must see you before Friday a week. Why don’t you boys stop on by fer—”