Tanner laid his fiddle aside and reached to pick up his niece. “Maybe you’ll play one day, too, little one. I’ll teach you.”
Shaking her head at his nonchalance, Raylene smiled at the ladies. “I don’t know that we can top that one today. What do you say to a sandwich and pie?”
Tanner changed Lillian, while Meriday prepared a bottle and Raylene made coffee and sliced bread. They seated themselves casually in the kitchen, and Tanner fed the baby, occasionally holding the nursing bottle in place with his chin to take a bite.
Almira and Emerald observed him with newfound admiration, and Raylene admitted to herself that his musical skills added to his already significant appeal.
Almira sipped her coffee and set down her cup. “What’s the difference between a fiddle and a violin, Mr. Bell?”
Emerald glanced at him with interest.
“It depends on the player and the music,” he answered. “They’re the same. Sometimes a violin is made with more curve to the bridge for ease in reaching the strings individually.”
“I noticed yours is made that way,” Raylene said.
“Yes, my mother could play classic pieces as well as square dance music equally well. My father bought the violin for her, and she treasured it.”
“We called them fiddles at home,” Meriday pointed out.
He nodded. “Each region has their own vernacular, as with many things.”
“So, you played your violin for us just now?” Almira asked.
“Don’t tell anyone,” he said with a grin. “It sounds like a sissified thing to do. I don’t mind being called a fiddle player.”
Raylene thought aloud, “Your mother gave you more than an instrument. She taught you the gift of music. Don’t dismiss your talent. She must have been proud of you.”
She wondered what it felt like to have a parent’s confidence and approval. She’d worked for that all of her childhood. As a daughter, she’d been a disappointment. As a daughter who wasn’t pretty, she’d been a burden, a lead slug her parents had polished and hoped to pass off as a gold coin.
She sliced the apple pie and set it, along with a stack of dessert plates, on the table.
Tanner set down the nursing bottle, and Raylene reached for Lillian. “May I?”
He handed her the baby. Raylene sat, propped Lillian at her shoulder, and patted her back. After the infant emitted a hearty burp, Raylene moved her to the crook of her arm and threaded her fingers into her silky hair. “I think her hair is getting lighter.”
Meriday dished up pie slices and served them.
The others continued their musical discussion as Raylene lowered her face to nuzzle the baby’s forehead and inhale her scent. She was fortunate to have been here at the moment Tanner Bell came to her door seeking a room, and in the days that followed when he’d needed a caregiver. She considered herself blessed to have the privilege of feeding, rocking, bathing and loving this tiny amazing human being. She would always be thankful and treasure these days.
The young women who gathered around Tanner at church were proof that he wouldn’t be here long. Once he found a parcel of land to his liking, he’d chose one of the pretty maidens eager for a home and husband, and that person would become Lillian’s new mother. Octavia, most likely. She was fair and curvy, with a captivating and flirtatious smile. Already Raylene’s heart felt heavier at the thought of him with Octavia, ponderous at the thought of Octavia with Lillian.
She tried to eat a few bites of the pie, but her throat had tightened with the fear of loss. She quickly handed the baby back to him. She’d already lost everything. These boarders weren’t hers in the first place. Never had been, never would be. She simply rented rooms.
After standing and tying on her apron, she pumped water and stacked their plates. She glanced at Tanner. He cast her a sidelong glance. The other women still chatted without notice.
“Thank you for the pie and coffee. Not to mention the delightful company,” he added with a smile at the other ladies. “I’m going to say goodnight now.”
The others wished him a good night.
As his boots crossed the wood floor, she listened until the hollow sound disappeared.
She might have more someday, but for now she was only as good as her work ethic. Now that her boarders were taken care of for the night, she went into her uncle’s library and lit two lamps. After searching through drawers in the enormous oak desk, she found a stack of heavy vellum paper. Placing twenty-four sheets atop the desk, she opened the ink and dipped a pen. With a steady hand, she carefully printed one large capital letter and one lower case letter of the alphabet on each of twenty-four sheets of paper. One at a time, she laid her papers out on the floor to dry. She’d created them to hang in a visible place where all of the children could see them.
Next, printing the entire alphabet on one sheet of paper for each student, so they had their own individual sheet, took over an hour. Her vision was bleary by the time she finished, but she was satisfied with her work. She was making a difference.
She climbed the stairs and prepared for bed, thinking of all the things she still had to accomplish. The preacher’s family was coming to dinner Sunday, and she needed a plan.
Tanner talked to the strawberry roan gelding behind him while he held its front left hoof between his knees and removed the nails from the iron shoe. He scraped dirt and dried muck from the sole and clipped the hood wall. Solomon was a gentle horse and stood patiently tied to the post as Tanner worked. It took him a couple of tries after changing tools to get his balance while holding his foot, and he filed the hoof smooth. He used two set nails to tap the shoe into place, and then let Solomon stand on it to make sure the shoe fit well.
“Anyone here?” came a call from outside the building. It was a clear sunny morning, and both of the livery doors stood wide open.
“In here!” he called.
A tall gentleman in brown trousers and a matching suit coat approached.
“Mr. Quint,” Tanner greeted him. Raylene’s boarder, Abraham, had never been to the livery before as far as he knew. “What can I do for you this morning?”
“I’d like a buggy for a few hours, if you please.”
“Certainly. I’m here by myself right now, so if you can wait a couple of minutes while I get this shoe in place, I’ll trace up a rig for you.”
“I don’t mind,” Abraham said.
The man never talked much at the dinner table, and always left after meals, so Tanner didn’t know much about him. “Did Lillian wake you last night?”
“Oh no. I sleep quite soundly.”
“That’s good. I don’t know what was wrong, but she was awake more than she slept. Every time I fell asleep, she cried.” He resumed his bent position with the hoof between his knees and tapped a couple of nails into place.
“I didn’t know you let those nails come out the side like that,” Abraham said.
“Yeah,” he answered as he worked to tap nails into each side. “Then I’ll bend them over tight and clip them.” He demonstrated. “That’s what keeps the shoe on securely.”
“And the horse doesn’t feel it?”
“No, that hoof wall is like our fingernails. I clip and file, but I’m careful not to clip too much.” Finished, he set down his tools and stroked the horse’s neck. “He’s a gentle animal. I’ll hook him to a buggy for you. He can use the exercise.”
“You’re proficient at your work, Mr. Bell.”
“Horses are easy to understand and live with,” he said. “Unlike most of the people I come across, they are uncomplicated creatures.”
Tanner led the roan to a pail of water and let him drink. “Do you want a two-seat buggy or do you need more room?”
“I’ll probably need more room to carry a few items.”
Tanner led Solomon across the open area to where a covered buggy with a double row of seats had been backed in. He took leather traces from a hook, unrolled them, and hitched the horse.
He got i
nto the buggy, lifted the reins and led the horse out into the daylight, then climbed down. “There you go, Mr. Quint. Enjoy your ride.”
Abraham dropped coins into his hand and drove the buggy forward, turning left toward the residential area of Twin Springs, rather than forward toward the road away from town.
This rental would interest Almira and Emerald, but it was none of his business what Mr. Quint did, as long as he paid and returned the rig. He’d become as nosy as the old ladies if he let himself think any more about the man’s comings and goings.
Two blacks with white sock markings pulled a lumbering wagon filled with firewood past.
“Tanner!” the driver called and waved.
Tanner walked forward, and the driver slowed the horses.
“Have you delivered to the Willow Creek church recently?” Tanner asked.
“Not for a while.”
“They can probably use a load for cool mornings,” Tanner said. “I’ll trade for shoeing your horses, as before.”
“You have a deal,” the man said, clucked and lifted the reins. He was likely making a stop at the boarding house.
Tanner stood a minute too long before getting himself a drink of water and letting the remaining horses into the pasture behind the livery. Raylene had rejected his offer of wood, preferring to pay for it herself. She was a proud woman.
Half an hour later, a rider dismounted and led his horse to the entrance. “Tanner Bell.”
Tanner approached from a stall where he’d been spreading fresh hay. “Hello, William.”
The man had a spread along Grouse Creek. “I got me some business in town. Can you feed and water Jack for me?”
“Sure thing.”
“I have some news that will likely perk yer ears right up.”
“What’s that?”
“The Rumfords are movin’ east. Old Bill’s been havin’ trouble with his legs—he’s got the gout, you know—and his missus wants to move to be by their son. He told me he’d be puttin’ the place up for sale and asked if I knowed anyone lookin’.”
The ranch he spoke of included two creeks and the property line ran alongside the Whitefish River. “What does he have, about two thousand acres?”
“Yep. Has plenty of it planted with hay ’n corn, some wheat, but most is for grazin’.”
“What about the stock?”
“Might auction it off separate or add it to the price of the land, I reckon. You’d have to talk to ‘im.”
“I’ll do that.”
“I knowed you were lookin’.”
“Thanks, William. No charge today.” He held the man’s horse by the halter and watched him walk into town. This could be his moment. The Rumford ranch might be exactly what he’d been waiting for. He’d pay the rancher a visit as soon as John Jay got here this afternoon. He had a lot to consider.
Chapter Seven
The Baileys arrived half an hour after church had ended, and Raylene welcomed them inside.
“Your home is beautiful,” Jennie exclaimed, removing her hat and gloves.
“Thank you.” Raylene took her hat and the reverend’s and rested them on a long gleaming table in the hallway. “This was my Uncle Vernon’s home. He was a banker here in Twin Springs, and he built it for his wife and children. My family used to visit occasionally.”
She had set the table the previous night and awakened at dawn to make preparations. Making a good impression on the new minister’s family seemed of utmost importance. She wasn’t well-liked or accepted in town, but Jennie had so far been friendly. She led her guests into the sitting room. The pocket doors that opened to the dining room were closed. “You know Mrs. Hobbs and Miss Cameron. This is Mr. Abraham Quint.”
“Hello, ladies,” Reverend Bailey greeted them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Quint.”
Abraham stood to shake the other man’s hand.
“This is Reverend and Mrs. Bailey,” she introduced. “And their son…?”
“Winston,” Reverend Bailey said.
“Winston,” Raylene said. “It’s a pleasure to have you join us today.” She turned back. “Mr. Bell will be with us shortly. He took care of rentals and horses after church and is washing up. Please have a seat. It will be only a few minutes until dinner is served.”
Behind her, the boarders picked up an easy conversation with their guests as she hurried to the kitchen to help Meriday with the final touches. They carried food to the table, removed their aprons, and Raylene checked her hair in the mirror by the back door.
“Everything is perfect,” Meriday assured her.
Raylene took her hand and they walked through the dining room. Raylene opened the pocket doors. “Dinner is served. Please come take your seats.”
Tanner had joined the others, and he first checked on Lillian who slept in her basket, already in the dining room.
“Meriday, this is the Reverend and Mrs. Bailey, and their son, Winston. This is my friend, Meriday.”
Jennie gave Meriday a quick hug, surprising both Meriday and Raylene. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I understand you attend the Willow Creek Baptist Church?”
“Yes’m,” Meriday replied with a smile.
Raylene showed their guests their seats. She and Meriday had already filled the plates with servings of stuffed chicken and lemon sauce, string beans and chunks of baked squash.
“This looks so good,” the reverend said.
As everyone took their places, Jennie asked Meriday, “Do you have drums as part of your Sunday worship? I’ve studied various religions and read that African worship is more celebrational than what we’re accustomed to in our denominations. Is that so?”
“I’ve only been to one or two funerals in other churches, so I can’t compare Sunday services,” Meriday said. “We do have drums. There’s lively singing and clapping.”
“Oh, I should love to visit sometime,” Jennie said, her eyes bright with interest.
Reverend Bailey didn’t quell her enthusiasm, but he did glance at Raylene and offer an indulgent lift of his eyebrow, as though accustomed to his wife’s spirited enthusiasm.
Raylene liked these people. “Reverend, will you ask the blessing, please?”
“Who usually blesses your meal?” the reverend asked. “I’m not the only one who can speak to the Lord, and I’d rather not usurp your routine.”
“That would be Mr. Bell,” Raylene answered. “He’s been doing that for us.”
Unflustered, Tanner nodded and lowered his head. “Thank You, Father, for another day to walk in Your grace and favor. Thank You for this abundance of food. Lord, bless our guests and each person who had a part in growing, raising, or preparing this meal. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Raylene spread her napkin, picked up her fork, and the others followed. She watched with apprehension as Jennie sliced and tasted a bite of chicken.
“Oh, my dear, you were overly modest regarding your cooking skills. This is magnificent.”
“I’ve enjoyed every meal I’ve eaten here,” Tanner offered.
“Meriday taught me almost everything I’ve learned.” Raylene picked up a basket of rolls and passed it. “The rest we have figured out together by reading cookbooks and perusing a collection of almanacs my aunt had in the pantry.”
Reverend Baily tasted the squash and nodded his appreciation.
“Truly, Mrs. Cranford, Miss Meriday….” Almira blinked as though weepy. “This meal reminds me of better days.”
Her meaning was clear. Abundance and elegance took her back to before they had lost so much. The others nodded solemnly.
Even Abraham nodded in agreement as he buttered a roll.
As though on cue, Lillian emitted her first faltering cry upon waking.
“I think the smell of the food wakes her,” Meriday said.
“When Winston was tiny, I don’t think I ever ate a meal without him on my lap,” Jennie added.
Meriday stood and motioned for Tanner to stay seated. “I’ll tend to h
er.”
“Have you become acquainted with the other school children?” Raylene asked Winston.
“Yes’m,” he answered.
“What’s your favorite subject?” Miss Cameron asked.
“Geography, ma’am.”
“Miss Cameron was my teacher when I was your age,” Tanner told the boy.
“And a smart lad he was,” she added with a nod. “Except for his proclivity to bring frogs and mice to class.”
Tanner’s hand stilled, and he glanced over at Raylene, then at Winston. “Don’t get any ideas. The time I spent sitting in the corner as punishment could have been better spent learning arithmetic.”
Raylene laughed. “I would have liked to have seen that. But I wouldn’t like it if one of the children I’m teaching brought a mouse to class. How does one catch a mouse anyway? They’re fast little creatures that disappear when you go after them with a broom.”
“Set traps,” Abraham explained casually. “Prop a small box with a stick and tie a piece of cheese to the stick.”
They all looked at the older gentleman who ordinarily never contributed to conversation. Almira laughed first. The others joined in.
“What was school like where you came from?” Jennie asked Raylene.
“My teacher lived with us,” she answered. “Meriday and I were her only students.” She didn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “It was very different from life here. Different than life now. I didn’t know then that it was different. It was all I knew. All we knew.”
Her comments had a deeper subtext, and she supposed the others recognized it.
Meriday returned to the table with Lillian and offered her the nursing bottle.
Raylene glanced around, noting others were nearly done eating. “I’ll go make coffee. And I have some cold milk for you, Winston. We have cider cake for dessert.”
When she returned with a carafe, she filled their cups and next brought servings of cake.
After Lillian had finished her milk, Jennie asked to hold her. The woman smiled at the infant in her arms. Did all babies affect people that way? Lillian was the first infant Raylene had ever been around, ever cared for.
Tanner (Bachelors and Babies Book 14) Page 8
