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“He’s turning a horse out into the feedlot.”
“I was saying the bay mare I bought to pull this buggy is pretty,” Brice improvised. He noticed Elizabeth was small, several inches shorter than Celia had been. In the dim light of the barn her hair was as black as a crow’s wing. Unlike what he had remembered, her eyes weren’t dark also, but gray. A silvery color like storm clouds. “The harness strap was in bad shape and I thought I’d better repair it before the buggy is needed.”
“You really have a buggy?” she asked.
“It’s right over there.”
She went in the direction he nodded and found the buggy in the area behind the stalls. “It’s beautiful! And the lamp is brass!”
He smiled. It was good to do something for someone who noticed an effort had been made. “It didn’t look that good when I bought it. There’s been some elbow grease put on it, I have to admit.” He had polished the lamp to a brilliant shine rather than return to the house and Celia’s constant complaining.
“I haven’t ridden in a buggy in so long!” Her voice was filled with wonder. “I hadn’t thought I ever would again.”
“Where’s the baby?”
“Asleep. She took a whole bottle of milk and fell asleep while I rocked her. I came out to thank you again for bringing me here. I already love her. You’re a very lucky man.”
Until today he would have argued that there was no truth in her last statement, but things had already changed. “She’s a good baby. I don’t think she’ll give you much trouble.”
Elizabeth came back to him and touched the harness. “Do you take the buggy out often?”
“It hasn’t been used since I brought it home. I thought Celia might like to use it but by then she wasn’t well. I got it for her.”
“How thoughtful of you.” She looked at him in surprise.
“Once the weather is warmer, you and Mary Kate might like to take it for outings.”
“Thank you. That would be nice.” She went to the stall and looked at the horse inside. “I’ve always loved horses. We had one almost this color back in Hannibal.”
“You and your husband, you mean?” It would do him good to remember she was married.
“No, my father.”
“Do you like it out here?” he asked.
“No, I don’t. Life is too liand here.” She was thinking of the privations in the sod hut and Robert’s abandonment. “I intend to go back to Missouri eventually.” She touched the horse’s velvety nose.
He hadn’t expected this answer. Elizabeth was so independent he had thought she would love the freedom of the frontier. “if I hear of a train returning east, I’ll let you know,” he said stiffly.
“Thank you. I won’t be able to afford it for quite a while. And then there’s Robert—wherever he is.”
“You shouldn’t worry too much about your husband. There are a lot of things that can hold a man up out here. It could be his horse went lame and can’t travel.” It was the only excuse Brice could think of. Even that didn’t hold water. If he were Robert and had a wife, especially one like Elizabeth, waiting for him out in the hills, he would buy another horse or walk home before he would leave her stranded for so long.
“Robert can take care of himself. He always does.” She glanced up at him as if afraid she had given too much away. “I should be getting back to the house. I don’t want Mary Kate to wake up and be alone.”
He watched her go to the barn door. At the entrance she turned.
“Would you like a ham for supper?”
“That would be great.”
“How many do I cook for?”
“Just me. The men eat in the bunlehouse.” He was looking forward to not eating with them. Ezra Smart might be all right at trail cooking, but a man could tire of beans and beef after a while. Brice had liked Consuela’s cooking well enough but she put red peppers in everything, and after a while that grew tedious as well.
“I’ll have it ready just after sundown.” She gave him a smile and stepped out of sight.
Brice stood staring after her. She even knew to time meals to the hours a man could work! Celia had insisted on dinner at six o’clock year-round because that was the time her parents had always eaten. She hadn’t even tried to understand that some days he had to work for as long as there was daylight. Ham. His mouth watered just thinking about it.
“You look like somebody whopped you in the head with a poleax,” Cal commented as he strolled back into the barn. He went to the gray gelding’s stall and opened the gate.
“She just came out to say the baby is sleeping,” Brice said defensively.
“Is she going to keep you posted every time that girl nods off?” Cal hooked the lead to the gray’s halter and led him to the tack mom.
“Of course not.” Brice went back to working on the harness. “She’s cooking ham for supper.”
Cal grunted. It was a customary sign of his approval.
“You want me to ask her to set an extra plate? You know you’re welcome at my table anytime.”
This time the man’s grunt had an edge of humor.
“Celia isn’t there now and her opinions don’t matter anymore. You’re my foreman and my friend. If you want to eat in the house with us, it’s fine with me.” He was thinking that might be safest. If Cal was there he wouldn’t be alone with Elizabeth. “I’ll tell her to set you a place.”
“Nope. Rather have beans.”
Brice shook his head. “You’re an odd one, Cal. How you can eat Ezra’s food every night is a mystery to me.”
“He ain’t fussy.”
Brice knew Cal would never forget or forgive Celia for driving him out of the house, even if she was dead and buried now. It was still her dining room as far as Cal was concerned and he had vowed not to set foot in it again. Celia had been too picky about most things. A man couldn’t work around cattle and horses all day and not smell like them from time to time. Or at least a man like Cal couldn’t. He was barely house-trained at all. Just the same, Celia could have been more tactful.
He remembered every word Elizabeth had said and how she had looked when she said it. The brief visit had told him a lot about her. She was conscientious or she wouldn’t have cared if Mary Kate woke up alone, and she appreciated a good buggy when she saw one. And she wasn’t that fond of her husband.
Brice found himself dwelling on that information. He couldn’t blame her for feeling the way she did about her husband. The man was a bastard for leaving her in a situation like that. But she was still married, whether she liked the man or not. Brice had to remember that. He also had to remember she was no happier in the Territory than Celia had been.
He was lonely. He knew that all too well. Even before Celia had died, he had been lonely. That wasn’t hard to do in the house with a woman like Celia. What he had taken for shyness when he was courting her had burned out to be mere shallowness. Her delicate health that had stirred him to such protectiveness had been an irritation when she used it as a weapon to keep him at a distance. He was wiser now and more wary, but he was also damned lonely for a woman’s company.
He worked the strap into place and buckled it. Finished at last! For a while there he had thought the harness would win the struggle.
“I’m taking Partner out for a ride,” Cal said as he tossed a blanket and saddle over the animal’s back. Partner flicked his ears back in protest and lifted a back hoof as if considering a kick to Cal’s leg. Cal slapped him on the flank and Partner put his hoof back on the ground.
“I’ll see you in a day or so.” Brice grinned at Cal. It was a standing joke between them. Cal broke horses by saddling them and riding out onto the range. He came home when the horse learned to obey bridle signals and not before. It was the easiest and quickest way to successfully train one.
“I’ll be back before dark,” Cal assured him as he tugged on the saddle cinch.
“I wouldn’t put money on it. The day is pretty well gone.”
Cal responded with another guttural sound. This time the utterance seemed to mean he disagreed. He led the horse outside before mounting.
As soon as he was in the saddle, Partner flattened his ears and tried to get his head down to buck. Pulling up on the reins, Cal held the horse’s head firmly up. Partner lunged forward, and by the time they topped the hill, he was running full out.
Brice laughed softly to himself. The horse couldn’t throw Cal, and one way or another, Partner would know something about reining before he saw the barn again. Cal was kind to animals—but he was more stubborn than they were.
Mary Kate was an easy baby to tend. Elizabeth laid two kitchen chairs on their sides in one corner of the kitchen to form a pen of sorts and put the baby there with an assortment of wooden spoons to play with until supper was prepared. Elizabeth had to remind herself over and over not to become too attached to the baby or the house because she had no intention of staying. if Robert returned, he would certainly insist that she go back to the sod hut. If he didn’t, she would go back home to her father and hope he would forgive her for leaving with Robert.
She also couldn’t get too attached to Brice. That was a different matter altogether and a far more difficult one. She clearly remembered that Celia had said he was cruel to her, no matter what his attitude toward Elizabeth might be. After living with her father and Robert, Elizabeth found cruelty easy to believe of any man. Elizabeth always seemed to be drawn to the men who were bad for her. Even if she were free, she would do well to avoid an entanglement with Brice. And having Mary Kate just a few feet away was a constant reminder that Brice had only been a widower for a short while.
When supper was ready and staying warm in the brick warming oven, she made a puree of potatoes mixed with juice from the ham for the baby. Elizabeth had older cousins with infants and she had known how to care for babies for years. Her father had often sent her to stay with cousins for months at a time to help care for their children. Without her mother’s milk, it was important for Mary Kate to eat food as soon as possible.
She held Mary Kate in her lap and slowly fed her spoonfuls of food. The baby grabbed at the spoon and gulped as if she hadn’t eaten in a week. Elizabeth laughed. “You’re a greedy little one, aren’t you? That’s good. You go for everything you want in life and don’t let anyone hold you back.”
Mary Kate gurgled happily and potatoes rolled down her dimpled chin.
When she had eaten all she wanted, Elizabeth changed her into a clean gown and diaper and rocked her as she fed her a bottle of milk. Mary Kate gazed up at her as she drank the milk, occasionally giving her a toothless grin that dribbled milk onto her cheek. Elizabeth felt a tug of pure love that touched something deep inside her.
The baby soon fell asleep and Elizabeth put her in her bed. As she pulled the quilt over the baby, she touched the soft golden down on Mary Kate’s head. Nothing was softer than a baby, she decided. Mary Kate sighed and snuggled into the familiar warmth of her quilt Elizabeth put a stuffed bear in the bed so that Mary Kate wouldn’t be lonely when she woke up, then went downstairs.
By the time she had the table set, she heard Brice washing up at the pump on the porch. When he came inside, his hair was damp from the water. He stopped when he saw her bending over the spider on the hearth to stir the beans. She looked back at him and smiled. “Ready to eat?”
“I’ll run up and change my shirt.” He backed toward the inside door. “I won’t be but a minute.”
“There’s no rush,” She started ladling the beans into a serving bowl She hadn’t cooked much because she wasn’t used to having many choices in what she ate. Even during the better times, she and Robert rarely could afford more than a meat and one other dish. Ham, beans, potatoes and corn bread were like a feast to her. She had even baked some of the dried apples into a pie. Would he think she was wasteful? She wanted to keep this job. It was her ticket back to civilization.
When she heard Brice coming down the stairs, she lit the other two lamps that made the dining room bright enough for the meal. To save lamp oil she had set the table in the dimmest light possible. She brought in the steaming bowls and put them nearest the head of the table where she assumed he would eat. Although she wasn’t sure she was supposed to join him, she had put her plate to one side.
“Is this all right?” she asked when he came into the room. “I can eat in the kitchen if you’d rather.”
He gave her a long look. “No, I want you to eat with me. You aren’t a servant, Eliz—Mrs. Parkins. I never meant that you should feel you are one.”
She felt the blush rising again. “I just didn’t know. In my father’s house only the family eat at the dining room table. I didn’t want you to think I was overstepping my boundaries.”
He held her chair and she slid into it hastily. Robert had never once done that for her. He sat at the end of the table and said, “This looks wonderful!”
Elizabeth smiled but didn’t meet his eyes. “I also made an apple pie. I know it’s extravagant, but I felt...I wasn’t sure if you like desserts.”
“You can make whatever you please. I’m not picky. Just hungry.”
She passed him the corn bread. “Mary Kate has been an angel I made her a place to play in the kitchen and she was no trouble at all. She’s upstairs asleep,” she added.
“Do you have brothers or sisters?” he asked.
“No, I was an only child. I have many cousins, though. That’s where I learned how to care for babies. I had hoped to have a large family, but apparently that won’t be.”
“You’re young. They may still come.” He watched her for a moment but gave no clue as to what he was thinking. “Beans?”
“Thank you.” She put some on her plate and left the bowl where he could reach it for seconds. She was trying so hard to do everything perfectly that she was barely allowing herself to breathe. “You said you have a brother. Are there others?”
“No. Just the two of us. We’re half brothers, really. James used to remind me of that often. We never got along all that well. Otherwise we could have worked the ranch together and I would have stayed in Texas.”
“Do you regret the move?”
“Not anymore. I can be my own person here and not have to answer to anyone.”
She looked at him in amazement. “That’s almost exactly what I told myself not long ago!” She caught herself. “Of course it’s different for a man.”
“You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you like.”
Elizabeth pushed the beans around on her plate. “We’ll have to see what happens. We don’t always get to do exactly what we want to do. Especially not if Robert shows up. I have obligations. Things are expected of me.” Her voice trailed off and she glanced at him. He was watching her in that oddly exciting way. Hastily she straightened and handed him the potatoes.
“I already have some.” He seemed amused at her eagerness to change the subject.
“So you do.” She put down the potatoes. “Is that the baby crying?”
“No. I don’t hear a thing,”
“I left her door open so I would know if she wakes up. I don’t want her to cry and me not hear her.”
“You’re kind. I knew you would be.”
“I don’t hold with letting babies any. Suppose it’s a weakness of mine—perhaps not having had one of my own. All they need is food or a hug or...” She bit off the rest of her sentence. Diapers weren’t a fit subject for the dinner table.
“Consuela thought crying would make her lungs strong.”
“I won’t let her cry. Not unless I can’t find how to make her happy. I never saw a child spoiled by being loved and treated with kindness, so if you don’t agree with that, it’s best that we clear the air now.”
“Why are you so determined to argue with me?”
She looked at him in surprise. “Is that what you think? I never meant to leave that impression. I’m not bad-tempered. Not at all. I...” She flushed with embarrassment. He was the one who was bad-tempered, and now the word lay between them.
“Hold on. I didn’t mean it that way. You go off on tangents faster than any woman I’ve ever known.”
“I talk too much. Robert is always telling me so. I’ll try to be more careful.” She sighed as she broke off a bit of corn bread from the wedge on her plate.
“I like hearing conversation. Cal never makes a sound unless it’s necessary. It’s damned lonesome when no one is talking.” He caught himself. “I’m sorry. I should be watching my language. It’s been a long time since I had a conversation with a woman.”
“I don’t mind,” she said honestly. What did it mean he hadn’t had a conversation with a woman in a long time? Celia hadn’t been gone so very long. Surely they talked before she died. Still, months of silence when you were used to having a wife about could seem like a longer time. “Sometimes Robert and his poker friends would turn the air blue. It doesn’t embarrass me.”
“He allowed his friends to talk like that in front of you? Why would he do that? Why not go to a saloon where no one cared how anyone else was talking?”
“He was of the opinion that the house was his and that I should adjust to it. My father would have agreed with him in principle, even though he hated Robert and would have cut out his own tongue before admitting that they saw eye to eye on anything.”
“It sounds as if your life hasn’t exactly been a bed of roses, even before moving to Zeb’s sod hut.”
“My parents had a nice house in Hannibal My father built it for my mother as a wedding gift.”
“That’s the first time you’ve mentioned her.”
