Chief Cook and Bottle Washer

by Rita Hestand

Deke chuckled softly, "God, you are a sweet little thing. No wonder Dad is so taken with you. You're like a real medicine for him. Just what the doctor ordered. You're going to be a man-killer when you grow up. How could a man leave such a beautiful little thing like you, I wonder. He couldn't begin to imagine how lucky he could have been."

  Sammie Jo slept so soundly Emma knew she was down for the night. She watched as Deke lowered her into the playpen, and spread a blanket over her. Then he leaned the distance over the crib and kissed Sammie Jo on the forehead. "Goodnight Sweet Pea."

  Any thoughts of Deke not being able to handle Sammie Jo for the night disappeared as Emma crept back to her bedroom. She knew sleep was going to evade her though. Too many things had happened to get a good night's sleep.

  But there was a sure fire cure for sleeplessness. She darted for the kitchen on tiptoe. She'd make herself a cup of hot chocolate and then she'd go right to sleep. She used to do it for her oldest brother when he'd had a particularly rough night of it. It always worked.

  She heard Denver barking outside, although he sounded far away, she recognized his bark. Probably off chasing a coon, or the likes. She smiled, she loved to listen to dogs howling in the moonlight. It sounded romantic.

  The moon lit the kitchen in a slight glow, but she turned the dim light over the sink on to fix her hot chocolate.

  The milk was nearly ready when Deke walked in on her, jolting her back to an awareness she wasn't prepared for. She tightened the sash to her robe, subconsciously. Then her eyes took one swooping look at him and darted away. His shirt was still unbuttoned, leaving a good eye's view of a hairless chest.

  "Can't sleep?" He asked, his voice a rough timber, as his eyes traveled her equally as slow.

  "I'm so used to having Sammie Jo with me, I can't get to sleep without her." She didn't dare look at him after he spoke, afraid he might guess the real reason.

  "So what are you making?" He asked moving closer.

  "Hot chocolate." She moved away, her hands closing her robe tighter. He saw the action, obviously from his smile, but he didn't comment.

  "Sounds good, enough for both of us, I hope."

  "Sure," she added just a tad more milk and placed the jug in the refrigerator. When she turned about he was still staring and still just as close.

  "How's the ribs?"

  "Oh, I'll probably be sore, but they aren't broken." She assured him.

  "That's good." He leaned close, against the counter, and she found a reason to move away as she reached for the cocoa.

  "What was Sammie Jo's father like?" He blurted out of thin air.

  It was the last question Emma expected to hear. And it more than brought her down to earth.

  "Oh I don't know." She sighed wishing silently he wouldn't bring up this subject, either. "He was young, ambitious, and I guess you'd say restless." Emma answered as truthfully as she could.

  "I don't get it."

  Emma put the spoon down after adding cocoa and stirring it, then turned to face him, "Don't get what?"

  "You don't seem like the kind of girl to get into this kind of predicament." He reached for the cups about the same time she did and their hands collided, they both moved away quickly.

  Emma squirmed. Here it comes again, she felt her heart leap into a quandary. She'd have to lie again. And where would it end. Should she just tell him? But then it would only involve him in her problems. Problems she hadn't even begun to settle yet. He had enough to contend with. Better to lie and leave when she could than to make more trouble for this nice man and nice family.

  "A man leads with his right hook, and a woman leads with her heart."

  "Oh," An eyebrow went up.

  "That's what my brother Frank used to say."

  "This brother Frank you talk a lot about him. But not the others. Why?"

  "We were very close the last few years. I think he was the only one that really realized how hard Dad was on me."

  "I don't know how you stood it so long. Most girls would have married and moved awa–"

  He stopped in mid sentence. "My God, that's it, isn't it. You were trying to get away from him any way you could. By getting pregnant."

  Emma felt her stomach churn, her heart bumped against her chest for her dead cousin's situation had suddenly become hers. "No. I was very inexperienced. Young. Stupid."

  "Then you were in love with this guy." Something in the way Deke said it made her look at him. As though those words disappointed him.

  "I wasn't in love with Joel. I was just very wet behind the ears, so to speak. But I thought I was in love with Charlie." She hated the lies. "I don't know much about men, I'll admit, but with young girls it takes a while to learn all the rules."

  "Rules, what rules?"

  "About what a man really wants when he kisses a girl. About what he means when he says he loves her, wants her. Those kinds of rules. Girls take it more seriously, till they learn."

  "And you've learned."

  "I think so. I'd like to think so, at least."

  "Did he know you were pregnant when he left?"

  "Y-yes."

  Some of it was true. If only she could just tell him. But he put so much stock in the truth and she had already compounded the lie.

  Deke's fist hit the counter, "Damn Emma . . ."

  "W-well, the hot chocolate is ready. Let's see if it works as good as they say it does."

  "Emma–about tonight–"

  "Look. It was a lovely evening. Please don't spoil it with apologies. I understand. It was a splendid dance, and you ended it with a goodnight kiss. Let's don't make any more of it than it was. Okay. I certainly haven't."

  "Is that how you want it?" Deke questioned, his voice lowering.

  "Yes, of course."

  He sighed aloud, as though he were much relieved by the news. "I never dreamed you were such a level-headed girl, Emma. It's a pity this other guy didn't know it."

  Suddenly the tension fled from the room. Deke seemed eager to talk about the ranch, the cattle, the poisoned ponds, anything, except the kisses they'd shared. Emma realized he was relieved, and it hurt, but she hid it behind a false front.

  "So, don't you have a favorite brother?" She changed the subject.

  "No–well, maybe. It's Jake. You might say he's the gifted one of the bunch." Deke smiled.

  "You keep saying that. But how can one brother be so gifted and not the others? A man who loves the land and the ranch as much as you do, and you say Jake's meant for better things. I don't understand that."

  "Don't get me wrong, the land means something. It means home, and family, and all the things that are really important. But Jake is more scholarly than the rest of us put together. He's going to amount to something. He could be a lawyer."

  "Does he want to be a lawyer?"

  "I honestly don't know. We thought he did, but I just don't know."

  "And the other boys, and what they want, don't they count?"

  "Sure, they count. Not a throw away in the Travers bunch, but Rusty, he'll hang around here, marry his sweetheart and bring up a parcel of kids, maybe take over here some day. Who knows. Clint, I just don't know about Clint. He comes on kinda strong, but it's all an act. He fell for a girl here while back and it didn't work out. Ever since, he's been running away."

  "What's wrong with Clint?" Emma handed him his hot chocolate and sat down at the small kitchen table.

  "The rodeo is wrong with Clint. He's a risk taker. And he's a lonely man. He's a charmer, but it's all just a front. Deep down he just needs a nice gal to settle him down. He was meant for ranching, best hand I have. But I'm losing him to his wild side. I feel that. Funny, I guess I grew up thinking they'd all want to stay here. I guess I assumed a little too much"

  "That's how you figure it?" Emma frowned.

  "Sure, why not?"

  "Is that what he really wants?"

  "Of course it is. Yeah, sure it is." Deke frowned.

  "And what do you want Deke?"

  "I've g
ot what I want." He gulped the hot chocolate and made a grimace.

  "Oh!" Emma sighed heavily, putting her hot chocolate to rest on the table. So he had every thing he wanted. So he was happy. Why did that make her the least bit sad?

  "I'm not saying I don't have troubles, from time to time. I do. But I'm pretty damn lucky, Emma. I got a spread here to work for the rest of my life, if I want to. I've got a family I wouldn't trade in. It's a good life."

  "And that's all?" Emma questioned.

  "What more is there?" Deke sounded almost angry, only not at her, more with himself.

  "Nothing–I guess. Well, it feels as though the hot chocolate is working, I think I'll turn in. Goodnight Deke, and thanks again for the dance."

  "Night Emma, sleep well."

  "Yeah," Emma quipped, not believing she would.

  Chapter Eight

  "I don't see any real problem with custody of the child, Ms. Smith." The lawyer came around the desk and peered at Emma from over the top of his glasses.

  "Really?"

  "More a matter of court papers being signed and waiting for the appropriate amount of time to pass," he explained.

  "Time to pass, I don't understand." Emma knitted her hands in her lap.

  "Yes, well, the papers will give you full custody rights, but we have to wait a certain amount of time to make sure it isn't contested. By the father or any other living relatives. Fathers, even bad ones still have rights, you know."

  "Joel isn't interested in Sammie Jo."

  "Any other relatives that might have an interest in the child?"

  "No–uh, yes, Joel's grandfather."

  "You think he might file a petition?"

  "I don't know. I've never met him, personally."

  "Perhaps you should. It might make it easier to resolve if you talked with him, if he saw you with the baby."

  "I'll think about it."

  "Good. And I'll contact you when it's time. You'll still be at the 4 Bar None?"

  "Yes, as far as I know. If anything drastic changes, I'll let you know."

  "Fine."

  Emma realized she wasn't any further than she was six months ago to getting full custody. If she'd had the papers drawn up then, it would have been over by now. Damn, she hadn't planned on this.

  She left the lawyer's office, with him telling her not to worry, even if the father or father's parents protested, they wouldn't have much to stand on since it was Emma who had taken care of the child. Good care of the child.

  But the elder Mr. Collins could be a real challenge. He had the money and position to pull favors from judges.

  Still Emma wanted it over and done with, and she wouldn't stop worrying till it was.

  "Get things taken care of?" Clint met her outside the lawyer's office.

  "Yes, for now. Thanks for driving me into town, Clint, I should have come sooner, is all."

  Clint seemed to watch her with a curious eye, but never once on the drive home did he question her purpose and Emma was silently glad. The less the Travers knew, the better, for their own sake.

  Clint talked all about the rodeo and how he was anxious to get back to it. Emma smiled, indulging him his need to talk about a taboo subject at home.

  "What about girls Clint?"

  "What about them?" Clint gripped the steering column a little tighter. "I don't get too serious about women anymore. Not that I'm against 'em. Just don't want to get tied down to one like Rusty."

  "Never?"

  "Maybe," he glanced over at her and winked. "When I'm done riding the circuit. But it'll take one heck of a girl to settle me down again. Got caught in that trap once, don't aim to try my hand at it again for a while."

  "What happened–I mean, if you want to talk about it."

  "She wanted the whole kit and caboodle. Marriage, kids, the house with the white picket fence."

  "So, what happened? What's wrong with that?"

  "Nothing. I mean if you were the settling down type. I guess she got tired of waiting, she ran off with a friend of mine. Not that it was serious with them either.. A real slick talker. Yeah, she played me for the sucker. Got me to believing in those kids and picket fences. Till I wised up. No ma'am it'll take one heck of a woman to settle me down now. About the only gal I've paid much attention to is Abby, and even she's gone now. We were good friends, I–I miss her."

  "Did you love her Clint?" Emma's voice softened as she waited for his answer.

  "Who Abby?" Clint shook his head no.

  "Yes."

  "Yes ma'am, I still do."

  Then he turned the radio on and started singing aloud, getting Emma to sing along with him. They were laughing when they arrived home that evening, and Deke had the stormiest of scowls on his face when they burst into the kitchen.

  He'd been busy with the health department officials and couldn't leave the ranch to take her into Sweetwater.

  "Sounds like the two of you had a good time," Cal said as he fed Sammie Jo some mashed potatoes and green beans that Emma had set aside for her supper.

  "Great time," Clint added with a wink to Emma.

  Emma didn't understand why Clint played up the day so, but she didn't question him. Instead she went about putting on her apron and starting supper as though nothing had happened. She didn't even take the time to change into a regular t-shirt.

  "Get your business taken care of, Emma?" Deke asked, handing Cal a napkin to wipe the baby's face.

  "Yes, but I'll probably have to make another trip in shortly," Emma responded without looking directly at anyone.

  "No problem, be glad to give you a lift, anytime, Emma." Clint winked again, and watched as everyone glanced at him questioningly.

  "Thank you, I'll let you know." Emma smiled at Clint.

  On the trip home she had gotten to know Clint much better and come to the same conclusion as Deke. Clint was suffering, but whatever it was it was deeper than what he spoke of. She wished she could help him, she hated seeing him in such pain and not being able to just let it out.

  "So bro, did you test the other ponds yet?" Clint asked as everyone crowded around Sammie Jo, who was eating up the attention.

  "Yeah, and fortunately a couple of the others weren't affected." Deke took Sammie Jo out of the highchair and held her in his arms, as though the act came naturally to him. "Still means moving the herd. We've lost about a half dozen head. It also means that irrigation system has to be fixed. We have no choice on that matter. And I'm going to need all the help I can get to finish it before winter sets in," Deke was saying, his eyes occasionally straying to Emma as he spoke and giving Sammie Jo the pleasure of an occasional smile.

  "We've handled tougher things than this, we'll get through it." Clint slapped Deke on the back and smiled.

  "You're certainly in a jovial mood."

  "It's the good company I've been keeping." Clint winked and started out of the room. "Excuse me, I'm gonna get washed up for supper unless you need somethin' bro?"

  "Go ahead." Deke watched Clint walk down the hall.

  "Sounds like Clint might be coming out of that mood of his," Cal said chuckling. "And it's about time. I was worried. Looks like Emma might be just the right medicine."

  "We all were worried about him," Deke commented dryly, as though he weren't as pleased as his father about the news.

  He shot Emma a glance but she turned away. Deke picked up his hat that he laid on the back of a chair and nodded. "Don't wait supper on my account."

  He handed Sammie Jo to Cal. Cal and Emma both jumped when he slammed the door.

  ***

  For the next couple of weeks Emma kept her distance from Deke. He'd been out of sorts and jumpy for the past few days and Emma didn't want to make matters worse. She didn't want to make him any angrier and obviously it was she who made him angry. She didn't know if it was because Clint had taken her into town when she should have been here, working and taking care of Sammie Jo. Or maybe because Clint was paying extra attention to her suddenly.

&nb
sp; Sammie Jo was walking much better now and getting into everything. She had won Cal's heart when she started getting his bed-slippers every evening and helping him put them on. Emma watched the exchange of love between them. Poor baby, she needed a family.

  Still, Emma was a wreck trying to keep her out of things that would hurt her. At first it was little things, like the TV, radios, and Papa Cal's old dear hunting boots. But then she ventured into the kitchen and Emma tried everything to turn Sammie Jo's attention on the few toys she had.

  "Sammie Jo, no!" Emma cried out one evening after supper when Emma was doing the dishes. "The soap is not to eat. Go get your teddy, honey."

  "She's really getting curious, isn't she?" Cal watched Emma distract the baby.

  "Yes, and I'm so happy Rusty built that shelf over the washer so I could store all the poisons and cleaners up there. But she's climbing too. Just yesterday I caught her trying to get into that very shelf. She'd moved a chair over there. I can't believe she could figure that out for herself."

  "They are smart. Half to watch 'em all the time."

  Never had Emma realized what a chore raising a toddler could be. She thought she'd get some slack as Sammie Jo got older, but the problems seemed to multiply. Sammie Jo was such an explorer, a risk taker. Afraid of nothing, and curious about everything.

  It was early on Saturday when Sammie Jo was sitting on the floor of the kitchen with her juice and a ball to play with, that she decided to get her own cracker. She had asked for one several times and Emma had ignored her. Not that she wanted to deprive her, she just knew she couldn't be hungry after eating a big meal.

  Climbing was a new feat Sammie Jo had become very interested in and she pushed a chair up to the counter and climbed into it. She wasn't shy about her new bag of tricks and she wasn't scared. Straining for the jar, she only managed to push it off the counter. A loud crash reverberated from the kitchen.

  Emma had gone to clean one of the bedrooms. She thought she heard a noise and realizing Sammie Jo hadn't followed her into the bedroom as she usually did, she ran toward the kitchen, holding her chest in fright. What now?

  Sammie Jo was there, screaming at the top of her lungs. She had scooted the jar to the edge of the counter, knocked it off and broken it in a million pieces. When she had tried to retrieve her prize, a cracker, she had stepped into the broken chards of glass and her foot was bleeding. It was hard to tell if it was serious since blood covered most of her foot.