by Lily George
Which was just as well, for she had—as far as they knew—failed at that task quite miserably.
She sat on the front step and unfolded the letter.
Dearest Ada—
Violet and I are rather taken aback at the news that you are newly a bride and a stepmother, and yet we know you will be happy. After the breakup of our own family, and the loss of our home, it must be a nice thing to have both family and home again.
Ada, we miss you.
We like school, of course, but a part of us feels lost without you in New York. After Father died and there was no way for us to remain together, it was hard to come back here.
When Mr. Burnett, your new husband, gave our money to the school, he included a note to each of us saying we are welcome to come home anytime. That’s how he phrased it—home. Vi and I have talked it over, and we may not want to return after the term ends. In fact, we wish to visit you during the Christmas holidays. Life in Texas may be hard, but life without family is even harder.
If we fit in well enough in Texas, we will make plans to stay there at your ranch after the term ends. Maybe you can find cowboy beaux for us, as well.
Vi just cuffed me as I wrote that. She wants me to remind you that her interest is solely in exposing injustice. She wants to study Indian life and culture and write about it. As one who is invested in alleviating poverty, I would be happy to work with her on that endeavor. As we understand it, the Indians endure harsh conditions at the hands of our government.
We should also like to remind you that if Mrs. Lucy Stone can elect to keep her last name, so, too, can you.
At the very least, as an advocate of women’s suffrage, you should style yourself Mrs. Westmore-Burnett. That does sound and look rather distinguished.
We shall see you at Christmas. The school closes on 19 December for the holidays, and we shall take the train.
Much love,
Delia
Ada folded up the letter and placed it in her lap. Then she buried her face in her hands. Part of her wanted to laugh, while the other part wanted nothing more than to cry. Her sisters wanted a home in Texas, rather than a life at boarding school. She had worked so hard to keep them there, and now they wanted to be here, at the ranch.
Of course, it would be wonderful to have Delia and Violet with her again. The only problem was, she wasn’t sure that she still had a home with Jack. If Jack lost Laura and she had to return to St. Louis, then there was no need for Ada to stay in Texas and pretend to be his wife. Aunt Pearl’s house had been demolished by the twister, so it wasn’t as if she could just go stay with Aunt Pearl and invite her sisters to stay there until the situation resolved itself.
What was she going to do?
The storm had disrupted mail service and the telegraph lines were down, so there was no way to tell if St. Clair had been apprised of his attorney’s visit. If the man had made it quickly enough to the train and headed out before the storm, he could have already informed St. Clair. He did have enough time, surely. Didn’t he?
There really was no way to know for certain. Nor could she write to her sisters and alert them to the situation until the mail service had been restored to Winchester Falls. What if they heard about the twister and began to worry that she had been injured or killed?
Behind her, the front door opened. “Miz Burnett?” Cathy’s voice sounded distinctly tired and frazzled.
“Yes, Cathy.” Ada grabbed her letter and rose. “What do you need?”
“Mr. Burnett is up and tried to dress himself and nearly broke his ankle in the process. He’s back lying down, but fit to be tied. He wanted to speak to Mr. Macklin. Miz Colgan is ordering Maggie around, talking a blue streak. They’ve both been asking for you. Many times.”
“Very well.” Ada followed the maid inside. Duty was calling to her. As her governess had taught her, least said, soonest mended. She would write to her sisters as soon as she could. They had several months until the Christmas holidays. Perhaps, if she gave everything a few weeks to settle, she would have a better answer for them.
Right now, she had other things to do, chief among them caring for two stubborn invalids.
*
Jack watched from his window as Ada drove the old, seldom-used gig out of the front yard, the one that had been pressed into service when the carriage was destroyed. She must be on her way to pick up Laura from school. Since the storm, Ada had faithfully taken her to and from school, not once saying a word about giving Laura the opportunity to walk.
Not that Laura would have taken it. She had become much more silent and introspective since then, no longer speaking her mind about things. All of her school friends had been found safe and accounted for, so she could not be sad about an unexpected loss. It was as though the rain and wind had quenched some internal spark of hers.
To be honest, he missed that little fire. Though he had been burned by her outspoken ways and wanted to think of her as a baby still, he had gotten used to knowing what was on his daughter’s mind, even if he didn’t agree with her at all times.
The same thing had happened to Ada. She was quiet and gentle where before she was a whirlwind of energy with a sharp tongue. Dark circles now ringed her eyes, and the corners of her tender mouth were always turned down, even when she attempted to smile. He had been awfully hard on her both before and during the storm. Had she taken his words, uttered without thinking in the midst of crisis, to heart?
He needed to talk to Macklin. Only by finding out what was happening on the ranch from his own top hand could he begin to understand what was going on within his own family.
“Cathy!” He bellowed as loudly as his ribs would permit. “Get me Macklin!”
“Hush up, Jack, I’m trying to sleep,” Aunt Pearl yelled from the next room. “Go and fetch him yourself, if it’s such a big deal.”
The old woman was right. Ada was gone, so he could risk sneaking downstairs. He made his way to the steps and took them slowly, trying to not bend forward as he did so. The wood floor felt cool on his bare feet. Funny, he rarely walked around the house barefoot. Usually he was in boots, striding through on his way to work on the ranch. It was strange and slightly humiliating to be creeping down the stairs in his bare feet, almost like a kid sneaking out for candy.
At the bottom, he collided with Maggie. “Why, Mr. Burnett, what are you doing out of bed? Miz Burnett would have a fit if she saw you,” the maid admonished.
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” he responded. He was still the boss of this house, no matter how capable Ada was at managing things in his absence. “Where’s Macklin?”
“He came out to the kitchen for a snack,” Maggie rejoined. “Do you need him?”
“Yep, bring him in the parlor. I don’t think I can make the stairs again, just yet.” Jack hung on to the wall. He was as tired and limp as a rag doll. “Hurry.”
Maggie nodded and went off to do as she was told. Jack inched his way across the vestibule and into the parlor. He had just managed to settle himself on one of the settees when Macklin came in.
“Boss, what are you doing up? If Miz Burnett knew—” Macklin began.
“Aw, hush. How would she like it if she knew you were taking time off to eat snacks in the afternoon?” Jack gave him a withering glance. “I imagine you are just hankering after Maggie.”
Macklin turned a telltale shade of red but tried to bluff his way out of his obvious embarrassment by shrugging. “Naw. Cleaning up all the mess is just makin’ me hungry, that’s all.”
A likely story. He’d seen Macklin making sheep’s eyes at Maggie for weeks now. He’d better press forward or else Ada might return before he was done. “How bad is it?” Now he could cut to the heart of the matter. “How much did we lose?”
Macklin sat in a nearby chair and put his hat on the floor beside him. “Hasn’t Miz Burnett told you?”
“Nope. She’s been too busy with Laura,” he responded. Why would his best hand ask his wife to tell him what
was going on with his own ranch? “Give it to me straight.”
“We lost about a fifth of our cattle. The carriage and the two bays are gone, can’t find them anywhere. Part of the hay coming up in the west field was flattened, but I reckon we’ll still get a good crop. Miz Burnett and I have been working to make sure everything gets taken care of, don’t you worry.”
Jack sat back for a moment, his ribs sending little shooting pains through his body. “A fifth of the cattle?” That was a lot. On the other hand, if others around them had lost cattle, too, then the price might go up. Scarcity always made prices rise. “As long as we’ve still got hay to feed them.”
“I think so. Miz Burnett came out and looked at the field. I explained to her how it worked—when we harvest, and how we do it, and how we store the hay. She was mighty interested and quick to catch on, especially for a city gal.” Macklin shook his head. “If you’d ever told me that a Yankee would come down here and take over running the place while you were laid up, I’d have said you were crazy. But she’s as smart as they come, and sensible too.”
For some strange reason, it filled Jack with pride to hear someone speak of Ada in this way. “You think I would pick a bad one?” Jack replied with a chuckle.
“I suppose you learned your lesson,” Macklin replied laconically, his eyes fixed on the floor.
All right, that was a direct hit for his crack about Maggie. He should have expected that one. “Yup. I sure did.”
They were silent for a moment. Then Macklin, as though he wanted to make peace, spoke up. “Truth is, I’m not the only one who feels this way about Miz Burnett. Folks in Winchester Falls have been seeing how well she’s taking care of the ranch, especially while you’ve been laid up. There’s not much to the town to begin with, but what’s here has been damaged. When I went up to look at the post office, the postmaster mentioned that maybe we should have Miz Burnett head up a committee. She could sort of gather people together and plan how and when to fix everything.”
Jack considered the matter for a moment. Ada had been looking wan and withdrawn the past few days. The twister had taken its toll on her, and so had that attorney’s visit. His injuries and Aunt Pearl’s hadn’t helped. Yet, despite these hardships, life at the ranch remained relatively smooth. Meals were still served. Laura was going to school, and Ada was taking her there. Repairs were being made. She really was becoming an integral part of life out here.
“I think Ada is capable of anything,” he replied, running his thumb over the pattern of the fabric on the settee. “If the townspeople believe she should head up any reconstruction, I’m not going to stand in the way. In fact, I think she’d do a good job of it.”
“I suppose I oughta ask Miz Burnett if it’s something she wants to take on,” Macklin replied. A huge grin broke over his rugged face. “People will be happy to hear it if she decides to go for it. All the repairs to the post office and the train depot will go a lot faster if she’s organizing things and telling people what to do.”
Jack nodded. Ada was doing a great deal of work for other people, helping out with Aunt Pearl’s place while her broken leg mended. She had also taken on a huge chunk of running the ranch for him, riding cattle and consulting with Macklin for weeks on end. All of this was done quietly and efficiently, without complaint. She was a true ranch woman, proficient at the things that mattered, and good at bossing others to do the things she couldn’t handle as well. She was so good at doing things for others. Wouldn’t it be nice to do something for her?
“What’s going on with the chapel?” He kept his eyes turned down toward the pattern on the settee. He didn’t want Macklin to see any softness toward Ada. He’d never hear the end of it if he let his emotions show.
“Not much,” Macklin admitted. “It’s going to have to be rebuilt from scratch. I reckon we won’t be getting a preacher this year.”
“I think we will,” Jack responded, keeping his voice even. “I’ll pay any man fifty dollars who will work to get it finished on time, as long as it doesn’t take away from your time rebuilding the town.”
Macklin gave a low whistle. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I am. Mrs. Burnett set great store by that church, and she was real excited that we were getting a preacher here in Winchester Falls,” Jack admitted. “It would be good for my daughter, too. Let everyone know. Anyone who is looking for work will find it at the church site. I expect daily reports on the progress.”
“All right, then.” Macklin rose, putting his hat back on. “Guess I’d better get to work. We’ve got a lot going on.”
“Sounds good.” Jack struggled to a sitting position. He needed to get back upstairs now that Macklin was leaving. If Ada caught him downstairs, he’d never hear the end of it. To be honest, he didn’t want to cause her any more work or distress. “Try to get Mrs. Burnett involved in the work with the town. I’m getting better, so I will take over more of the ranch work. Since the chapel is on my property, let’s try to keep the work on it as secret from her as we can. I want it to be a surprise.”
Macklin shook his head, making his way to the door. “I doubt you’ll put one over on Miz B.”
Jack chuckled. “Maybe not, but I’m gonna try.”
It was about time he did something for Ada.
Chapter Fifteen
Ada faced the crowd of murmuring townspeople in her parlor, her pulse quickening. “If I could have your attention, please,” she called.
Macklin let out a sharp, high whistle, and the chattering stopped. About thirty people turned to face her, their expressions open and expectant. There were some people among the group she recognized, but none of her own ranch hands. That was odd, but then again, perhaps Jack had too much to do in the fields to spare a man. Macklin was here, and that would have to be enough for now.
What had she gotten herself into? This was far more unnerving than marching in a suffragist parade. However, Jack had asked her to do it. No, more to the point, Macklin had asked her, and Jack had told her that he knew she could handle it. Jack expected her to help rebuild the town. In fact, in complete defiance of Dr. Rydell’s orders, he had gone back to ranching. He rode for only a few hours a day, and only in the fields closest to the house, but he still rode out with the sunrise.
If Jack could push forward in the face of his own illness, then she could work with the townspeople to rebuild the town.
She cleared her throat. “I call this meeting of the Winchester Falls rebuilding committee to order. Do we have anyone here who can take notes?”
Aunt Pearl waved a scrap of paper in the air. “I’ll do it.”
“Thank you,” Ada replied, her heart surging with gratitude. If only Jack could be here. Somehow, she would feel better if he was sitting beside her. Jack, however, was off working the cattle. If he couldn’t be here, at least Aunt Pearl was on hand to give moral support. Where should she begin?
“We’ve all endured a series of hardships on our own farms and ranches,” she ventured. The townspeople nodded and muttered among themselves. “We were among those who sustained less damage than others. I believe we should begin by making sure that those people who were hit hardest should receive help from the rest of the town.”
One woman, who was very well dressed, spoke up. “I think the families hit hardest were over in the west part of the county. I’ve heard the shanties in that section were hit hard. Of course, they weren’t very sturdy to begin with.”
“Is anyone here from that part of the county, someone who can give a report on the damage?” Ada looked over the crowd of people. Everyone shuffled around, craning their necks to see which townspeople were in attendance.
“It doesn’t look like it,” Aunt Pearl said. “Maybe they didn’t know about the meeting. Or maybe they didn’t feel welcome.”
“I don’t think those people care, to tell the truth.” One man shrugged, lighting his cigar. “They’re all the same. Trash, mostly. I hope they never rebuild. Let them move on to another county.”
>
Ada’s blood began to boil in her veins. Oh, if Violet and Delia were here! They would give this oaf a talking-to. “Extinguish your cigar, if you please,” she retorted crisply. “I don’t allow smoking in here.”
The man cast Ada a withering glance and crushed out his cigar on the fringe of the Oriental rug.
“I’ve gotta say, I agree with Bill,” another man spoke up, pointing over at the man with the cigar. “I mean, couldn’t we say this was a kind of housecleaning? We can start fresh this way.”
“No, we cannot.” Ada’s anger burned white-hot within her. Yes, she had always been a daughter of privilege. However, she had also been taught about “the least of these.” Charitable work had been a part of her life for as long as she could remember. “This is our opportunity to extend our hands in Christian fellowship and care for our fellow man. We need to help the poorest of the poor to rebuild. It’s what our Holy Father taught us.”
An uneasy silence settled over the group, but Pearl smiled bracingly at Ada, her eyes glowing.
“Anyone who doesn’t wish to help will, of course, be given the option of working on other things,” Ada continued, her voice shaking a little at her own boldness. “However, for our community to thrive and to be the sort of place that welcomes a preacher, we need to pull together and help those who cannot help themselves.”
“I’ll head up the repairs to the shantytown,” the postmaster, Mr. T. J. Pollitt, replied, raising his hand. “My folks came from nothing. I’m not ashamed to say it. We had a lot of help in our day, and I’d be glad to help others.”
“Thank you.” Ada gave him a warm smile. “Anyone else who wishes to help rebuild that part of town, please work with Mr. Pollitt.”
Aunt Pearl gave Ada a satisfied nod of her graying head, and Ada felt that same familiar pull of both gratitude and family warmth. When she had arrived in Winchester Falls, she had not felt very kindly toward her aunt. In fact, she thought her aunt had traded her like so much chattel. She was starting to see, though, that Aunt Pearl possessed a great deal of wisdom.
