A Chance at Love

by Beverly Jenkins

Their responding grins made Loreli melt inside. Turning back to Jake, she asked, “Don’t you think that was some fine singing?”

  “Real fine singing,” he agreed.

  For the rest of the ride, Loreli did nothing but relish how good she felt. Her problems with Reed not withstanding, she enjoyed being a part of this family, at least so far. Reality dictated that sooner or later she and the twins were going to disagree over something or the other, and when it became time to issue some discipline, they’d probably place Lorlei’s name on their witch list right beside old Rebecca Sourapple, but for now happiness reigned and Loreli was content.

  As the wagon approached the Petersons’ farm and Loreli got her first look at the small, listing sod house, she sensed hopelessness, poverty and despair. Like other such homesteads on the plains, the dwelling had been made from stacked, thick cuts of sod mortared together with mud. Soddies, they were called—damp when it rained; drafty when the winter winds blew. The roof was nothing more than a thin sheet of plywood with a layer of sod on top. There was one rough sawed window cut into the left front wall to let in light. The house sat flush with the ground so there was no porch or steps. Loreli could only imagine how cramped it must be inside with five growing children and how dark and gloomy. Soddies were very flammable during the hot dry months of the summer, so great care had to be exercised with candles and lamps.

  Loreli glanced at the twins. The pall that hung over the place seemed to have affected them as well. They’d quieted when Jake turned the buggy toward the house, and were now sitting and watching silently.

  “How long have the Petersons lived here?” Loreli asked Jake.

  “Almost three years.”

  Loreli could see a large patch of corn growing emerald green under the afternoon sun. “Corn’s growing.”

  Jake nodded. “Looks like a good strong crop. He had a real hard time getting the ground ready that first year. He had no animals to plow with, and no one to help him plant but his wife, Susan—his children were too young. I brought over an ox and offered to lend him a hand, but he turned me down flat. Proud man, real proud.”

  Loreli hoped she wouldn’t have to argue with this proud man about taking the mortgage from her. Even a blind badger could see he needed help. As her father used to say, what some men called pride, other folks called simple stubbornness.

  Jake brought the wagon to a stop, and a few moments later, a man Loreli now knew to be Matt Peterson came out from behind the house. He raised a hand to shade his blue eyes from the late afternoon sun. “Afternoon, Jake. Hi, girls. Who’s that with you?”

  The girls hopped out, then Jake came around to help Loreli down.

  “Want you to meet Loreli Winters,” Jake told him.

  Loreli stepped to the ground. “Afternoon, Mr. Peterson.”

  “Ma’am.”

  Peterson studied her for a moment as if trying to place her face. “You were in the bank.”

  “Yes, I was.”

  “Sorry you had to see that,” he said.

  “No apology needed. You were speaking your mind.”

  “Diggs is a thief.”

  Out of the house stepped a tired-faced young woman dressed in a well-patched brown calico farm dress. She had light brown hair and a curly-haired toddler on her hip. Beside her stood two little girls who couldn’t be more than four and five; an older girl, Loreli guessed to be Carrie, and an older boy, the cricket-carrying Jimmy. Upon seeing Jake, however, the woman’s tired face broke into a smile, letting Loreli see traces of her former beauty.

  “How are you, Jake?”

  “Fine, Susan. And you?”

  She hefted the toddler to a better position. “I’m doing well.”

  Matt Peterson said to Loreli, “Miss Winters, this is my wife, Susan. Sue, this is Loreli Winters.”

  The woman nodded a greeting. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Same here,” Loreli replied. “What’s the baby’s name?”

  “Nathan, after Matt’s pa.”

  Loreli reached over and ran a gentle finger down his smooth, chubby cheek. “How are you, precious?” she cooed.

  Susan introduced the other children. The entire family was painfully thin.

  “Want to see our new scarecrow?” Jimmy asked the twins.

  Their brown eyes widened excitedly. “May we?” Dede and Bebe asked their uncle.

  “Go right ahead.”

  The children ran off. Susan set the toddler on his feet, but kept a sharp eye on him as he waddled around on his unsteady little legs.

  Peterson asked Jake, “I suppose you heard about Diggs foreclosing on us?”

  Jake nodded. “I did.”

  “Granger, Doyle, and Sears all got notices too.”

  Jake replied grimly, “It’s the organizing.”

  “I know.”

  Diggs, in cahoots with some of the area’s big grain processors, didn’t want the farmers to speak with one voice. The banker and his moneyed friends wanted things to remain just the way they were, under their control. If the farmers banded together, making the processors have to bid for the crops, control would be in the hands of the farmers and things would change. Diggs hoped that by cutting the feet out from under intelligent and forthright men like Peterson, other men would think twice about becoming involved. “So what’re your plans?” Jake asked him.

  “If I didn’t have Sue and the children, I’d make the sheriff put me off this land,” Peterson stated flatly. “But I can’t risk my family being harmed.”

  Susan said, “Diggs hasn’t given us a lot of time to decide what to do. We don’t have much money, so I suppose we’ll have to stay with my sister up in Lawrence for a spell. After that?” She shrugged.

  Loreli’s lips tightened. She couldn’t wait to play poker with Diggs again. Maybe she’d get the chance to teach him a little about foreclosure. She filed the thought away for later, then said to the Petersons, “Suppose there was a way you could stay? Would you?”

  Peterson eyed her suspiciously.

  Susan looked from her husband’s face to Loreli’s before asking her, “What would we have to do?”

  Loreli fished in her handbag, then withdrew a folded document. “Just take this.”

  The woman took the paper but promptly passed it to her husband. He hesitated for a moment to study Loreli, then took the paper from his wife. Unfolding it, he slowly read the wording. His lips tightened. “What is this?”

  “Your mortgage.”

  “I can see that, but why’s your name on it?”

  “Because I now own this land.”

  He swung angry eyes to Jake. “What the hell does she mean?”

  Loreli declared instead, “Talk to me, Mr. Peterson. That’s my name on the paper—not his.”

  Peterson looked at her as if she’d just announced she was the Queen of England. “You’re a pretty uppity woman, woman.”

  She raised her chin, put one hand on her hip and tossed back, “Yes, I am. Now, do you want to talk about staying on this land or not?”

  His wife put a gentling hand on his. “Matt, at least listen to what Miss Winters has to say. Remember, she said she might have a way to help us.”

  He looked down into his wife’s pleading eyes, but his own were clearly angry as they met Loreli’s. “Let’s hear it.”

  “My plan is to give you this land free and clear.”

  Peterson tried to hide his astonishment, but failed. “Why?”

  “Because the twins and Carrie are friends.”

  In the silence that followed, an amazed Peterson turned to Jake for explanation.

  Jake shrugged. “It’s what she wants to do.”

  Peterson looked as if he wanted to ask her a dozen questions, but could only manage one. “Who are you?”

  Loreli smiled. “Loreli Winters. I’m a gambler by trade, but next week I’m going to be Jake’s wife.”

  Peterson’s eyes widened. “What?”

  Jake said, “Yep.” And he felt no shame in supporting her cl
aim. Her wanting to help Matt and his family filled Jake with more pride than he’d ever imagined. She was one remarkable woman.

  Susan asked Loreli, “Are you really going to give us the deed?”

  Loreli saw the hope and joy waiting to spring to life in Susan’s brown eyes, and replied gently, “I wouldn’t tease you about something so serious.”

  Susan’s happy tears spilled down her cheeks. She brought her hands to her mouth in wonder.

  Peterson’s jaw tightened. “Thank you, but we don’t take charity.”

  Loreli looked at him as if he were a candidate for an asylum.

  Susan stiffened. She stared at her husband with what appeared to be disbelief, then dropped her head resignedly. She said quietly, “It was nice of you to pay us a visit, Miss Loreli. I—I have to get back to my darning. Good-bye, Jake.”

  Susan scooped up the baby and hastened into the house.

  Her husband watched her exit with an obvious pain in his eyes, but Loreli wanted to take a buggy whip to one Matt Peterson. She glanced at Reed. His face was tight and showed no emotion.

  Peterson locked gazes with Loreli but directed his words at Reed. “Take her home, Jake. I don’t need handouts.” He shoved the paper back at her.

  Loreli snatched it free, and snapped, “No, what you need is someone to take a stick to your stubborn head.”

  Jake made a move as if to intervene, but the flash in Loreli’s golden eyes froze him in midstep.

  Loreli added coldly, “Pride is fine, Mr. Peterson, but it won’t mean a damn thing to your five hungry children.”

  He flinched, then snapped coldly, “Jake—get her out of here.”

  A sneering Loreli threw back, “Don’t bother, I’m leaving.”

  And she stormed back to the wagon.

  Loreli was still simmering when Jake halted the wagon in front of his house. She hadn’t said a word during the ride back. The twins, having never seen this side of their new mama before, were watching her warily as they hopped down from the bed to the ground.

  Noticing their concerned faces, Loreli said, “I’ll be better in a little while. I just need time to cool off.”

  “We saw Carrie’s mama crying,” Dede said softly.

  Loreli nodded sadly. “I know, pumpkin, but I’m sure she’ll be okay.”

  The girls nodded, then ran off to play.

  In the silence that followed, Jake said quietly, “Your plan didn’t go very well.”

  “No, it didn’t,” she agreed.

  “You shouldn’t have pushed him that way.”

  “I should have pushed him off a cliff.”

  In spite of the serious moment, he chuckled softly. “You do have a way with words.”

  “Peterson didn’t seem to think so.”

  “You tried. Like I said, Matt’s a proud man.”

  Loreli snarled. “Pride’s not going to feed those children. Did you see how sad his wife looked when he turned down the deed?”

  “I did.”

  “Well, call it pride if you like, but I think it’s stupidity.”

  “You can’t judge what drives a man.”

  Loreli looked his way. His eyes met hers and he said, “You can’t.”

  His words held a wisdom that cut through her anger. She surrendered. “You’re right, I suppose. I only met the man an hour ago, and I don’t know anything about him, but I did meet his children. Why uproot them when it isn’t necessary and start all over again somewhere else? He’s just going to place himself under the same kind of debt and spend the rest of his life trying to repay it.”

  “I agree, but you did your best. If he won’t accept your help, there’s nothing you can do.”

  Loreli was slumped back against the seat. Her beautiful face mirrored her frustration.

  Jake sensed her essence slowly weaving its way into his being. He thought back on the way she’d stood up to Matt Peterson. She’d been just as fearless as Jake initially imagined her to be, if not more. A man with her by his side would never have to worry about facing obstacles. Life had honed her fine as a blade. He looked over at her tight face and said easily. “I’m going in to prepare some supper. You coming?”

  She sighed. “I guess so.”

  Jake met her eyes. “You did more than most folks would have.”

  She nodded. “Not that it made much difference, but thanks.”

  He made four of them some sandwiches out of the last pieces of a smoked ham he’d been given by a farmer for curing sick sheep, then added some dried apples and peaches. It wasn’t fancy but it was nutritious, much better than the corn bread and pot likker the Peterson children and other children of struggling families were routinely given because that’s all there was to eat. He hoped Matt would come to his senses, because Loreli was right, children couldn’t eat pride.

  Putting aside thoughts of Matt’s family and their troubles for now, Jake went out to the back porch to call the twins and Loreli. He stopped and stared speechless at the sight of Loreli jumping rope. The girls were twirling and chanting a sing-song rhyme while a laughing Loreli was in the center jumping to her heart’s content. The light of happiness in the girls’ eyes shone even from a distance. Shaking his head at her unpredictability, he feasted his eyes on the small patch of golden ankle above her short-heeled green boots made visible by her held aside green skirt. She’d removed her jacket for the play and the white, high-neck blouse she had on beneath looked to be made of the softest material he’d ever set eyes upon. Her breasts bounced a bit in tandem with her jumping. Feeling himself becoming aroused, Jake quickly swung his eyes back to the girls’ happy faces, hoping it would calm him down. It didn’t. “Come eat, ladies!”

  Bebe called back across the field, “Loreli’s jumping to a hundred. She’s on ninety-six!”

  “Okay,” he yelled, smiling. “Come on in when she’s done.” Shaking his head again, Jake went back into the house.

  A bit later, as they sat on the front porch with their plates, Jake asked Loreli, “Well, did you make it to one hundred?”

  Loreli responded proudly, “I did indeed. Probably wouldn’t have if I hadn’t been on that wagon train. Mr. Blake, the wagon master, really made us work.”

  Dede asked, “Did you jump rope?”

  Loreli chuckled. “No, pumpkin, but he made us do a bunch of things that turned us into real strong women.”

  “Like what?” Bebe asked.

  “Well, we had to pitch our own tents, fix our own wagon wheels when they broke, drive the mules and horses.”

  Dede asked with wide eyes, “All by yourself?”

  Loreli nodded. “Yep, there were only two men on the train, so the ladies had to do everything.”

  Bebe said, “I’ve never fixed a wagon wheel before.”

  Dede added, “Me neither.”

  “Well, how about I teach you sometime this summer?”

  Their eyes lit up. “Will you?”

  “Sure.”

  They looked to their uncle. “Can we?”

  He smiled, “Sure, why not?” He had no idea how learning to fix a wagon wheel might help them in the future, but he saw no harm in it.

  After everyone had eaten, Jake said, “There are a few hours of light left, so how about we go over to the old Fisher place and see if the fish are biting.”

  The girls’ eyes widened with glee.

  “Now?” Bebe asked.

  “After the dishes are done.”

  Bebe looked dejected. “Oh.”

  Her sister looked disappointed as well.

  Loreli laughed, “How about I help? Three of us can do it faster than two. In fact, I’ll wash and you two dry.”

  The smiles returned.

  Less than an hour later, they were back in the jostling wagon, heading up the rutted road. The girls were singing, “Home on the Range.” Loreli had never heard the tune before, but she got a big kick out of her twin coyote pups singing in their sweet, off-key voices, “Hoooome home on the raaaannnge—where the deer and the antelope
plaaayy…”

  When the last note faded into the silence, Loreli applauded enthusiastically. “Where in the world did you learn that lovely song?”

  Bebe replied, “Everybody in Kansas knows that song, Loreli.”

  “Oh, really?”

  Jake said, “It was written by two men from Smith County. Doc Brewster Higley did the words, and his friend Dan Kelley came up with the music.”

  Loreli replied, “Well, they did a real good job.”

  Loreli looked toward the setting sun. It was as fiery red as she’d ever seen it. “Where’s this old Fisher place and why is it called that?”

  Jake said, “The Fishers came here from Tennessee with the first wave of Exodus folks back in ’78. Like most of the ’dusters, they didn’t bring enough supplies or provisions, so after two years they abandoned the place and moved back East. There’s a little creek out back.”

  The Fisher house, once a fairly wide soddy, had fallen in on itself. The thick verdant plains grass surrounding the place didn’t look as if it had ever seen a plow. As soon as the wagon stopped, the girls, poles and buckets in hand, jumped down from the bed and took off running toward the back of the place.

  Jake came around to help Loreli down. He’d done this before, but for some reason, when he closed his hand over hers, a sweet flame rose slowly and licked gently at the foundation of the gates he’d built around his self-control, heating them, bending them, searing open the locks. And as he looked at her, his eyes said what his voice could not: he wanted her.

  Loreli felt the heat too, in his hands, in his eyes. Were she not certain the girls would come back and interrupt, she was equally certain she and this gorgeous man would be doing something totally unrelated to catching fish.

  Bebe called out, “Are you coming, Loreli? We already found some worms!”

  “Be right there,” Loreli called back without leaving his eyes.

  “Okay!” Bebe ran off.

  The moment was over, but the awakening of their senses remained. He reached up and swung her down, slowly. When Loreli’s feet touched the ground, she hardly noticed—his hands on her waist, though, were hot, strong.

  The air was charged. They could both feel it. “We—should get going,” she said softly.

  “Yes, we should.”