Settling down on one of the blankets the girls had brought, he fished a ham sandwich out of the basket and took a bite. Just as Susanna finished setting out items on the other blanket, Seamus gave her an appraising look Nate didn’t care for in the slightest.
“Will you join us, miss?” The Irishman spoke with that foreign brogue some women found so appealing.
“Well...” she began.
Nate felt heat rushing up his neck. “She’s already accepted my invitation.” He waved her over. “I’ve saved you a spot, Miss Anders.” That should put Seamus in his place. Nate might not be able to court Susanna, but he wasn’t about to let just any cowpoke sweet-talk her. He had an obligation before the Lord to take care of her while her father was laid up.
“I was going to say—” walking over to his blanket, Susanna wore that cute, scolding look on her face “—someone should say grace before anyone eats.”
Nate felt a pinch of shame. As the foreman in charge, he should have set an example for the men, especially his brothers. “You’re right. Let’s pray.” He offered up a spoken prayer of gratitude for the food, for the hands that prepared and brought it out to them, and for good progress as they continued to work on the ditch that afternoon. Once he said “amen,” he silently prayed for the Lord to give him guidance about Susanna. After his hot reaction to Seamus’s friendly invitation to her, something any cowboy might say to a pretty girl, Nate could not deny he was beginning to care deeply for her. But it just wouldn’t work out.
Now, if he could just make his foolish emotions accept that painful fact.
* * *
Susanna sat cross-legged on the blanket, one folded knee only a foot away from Nate’s. Mama would be shocked by her posture, but Susanna had learned early on the trip west that for the noon meal, it was either sit like this or stand. She could tolerate the temporary ache in her back so she could be near Nate. She’d appreciated the way he’d set Seamus straight about where she was going to eat. On the other hand, his protectiveness had stirred up some unruly emotions she couldn’t seem to silence. She tried to think of some way to tease him, but finally settled on a neutral topic.
“The ballroom is beautiful, Nate. You and Zack did a fine job. The wallpaper is exquisite, and there’s not a wrinkle in it.” She picked at the bread crumbs that had fallen on the blanket to avoid looking into those appealing eyes.
“You saw it? Nobody was supposed to go in there.” He scowled at his sister. “The Colonel wants Mother to be the first one to see the finished room.”
Rosamond returned a haughty sniff. “And just how are we supposed to make those velvet drapes if we don’t go in and measure the windows?”
“Oh.” He gave Susanna a sheepish grin. “You’re helping make the curtains? That’s real nice, but you don’t have to do it.”
Warmth spread through her chest at his appreciative gaze. “I enjoy sewing.”
“Susanna is very good with velvet,” Rosamond said. “It always slips for me, and I end up with puckers or uneven seams. And she refuses to give me her secret.” She laughed along with her complaint, so it didn’t give Susanna cause for worry.
“Can’t give away family secrets, now, can I?”
“Well, I still say it’s real nice.”
As he gazed at her, Nate’s expression softened in a way Susanna had never seen before, almost to a glow. With difficulty, she looked away, fighting the pleasant bonding of her heart to him. Did he feel the same way? Were his friendly feelings toward her growing into something more, as hers were toward him? And if they were, what could they do about it? She just couldn’t marry a Yankee. If she did, she’d never be able to go home to Marietta. And surely Nate could never get his father’s approval, for the Colonel not only disliked her, he obviously hated her.
“Have you and Mr. Anders had time to read any more of Bleak House?”
Lost in thought, Susanna jumped at Nate’s question. “A little, yes.” She scrambled to remember where they’d left off last night, but she’d fallen asleep right in the middle of reading. Daddy’d had to wake her up and send her off to bed. “I must say, there are so many characters and story lines, it’s difficult to keep track. I was making a chart on our trip, but the horse thieves must have thrown it in the fire, because it’s not anyplace in our wagon.”
His eyes darkened a little at the mention of the thieves, but then he grinned. “A chart, eh? Have you figured out who the villain is yet?”
“Daddy and I disagree, so we’re having a little contest to see who’s right. It makes our traveling more fun. If he wins, I’ll have to shine his shoes, and if I win, he’ll have to wash dishes. That is, once we’re back on the trail.”
“That’s a nice way to pass the time.” Nate’s soft gaze lingered on her, making it hard for her to swallow. Was he hoping, as she was, that it would be some time before she and Daddy would be back on the trail?
After all those months of traveling, surely she could rest for a while longer and enjoy the fellowship of this community. In spite of the Colonel, she really wanted to attend the anniversary party. Or any party, for that matter, if anyone happened to throw one.
Her hopes were realized two days later when Maisie rode over from the Eberly ranch with an invitation to her family’s barn raising the following week. Joining the ladies in the kitchen, she announced, “After the work’s done, we’re having a big shindig to celebrate Independence Day.” Shrugging, she added, “And my birthday.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Rosamond gave her a sly smile. “We already have your present.” She winked at Susanna. The two of them had made a new shirtwaist for Maisie, and both looked forward to giving it to her. At Susanna’s insistence, it had many more frills than Maisie’s usual shirts.
“Why, Maisie,” Mrs. Northam said, “I’d forgotten that you share your birthday with our United States. Of course we’ll be there. What can we bring?”
“Cook’s gonna roast a side of beef and a whole pig over open pits, so any side fixings will be good. And Ma said to tell you to bring your special lemon cake.”
While the other ladies discussed what their neighbors might bring, Susanna scrambled to think of something she could prepare. Not that they would need her efforts, but she’d still like to participate. If Angela had the right ingredients, Susanna could impress Nate...well, everyone, with her special dessert.
Maisie chuckled. “Anybody want to make a guess what Mrs. Halstead will bring?”
“No need to guess.” Rosamond pinched her nose as if smelling something bad. “Sauerkraut.”
As Mrs. Northam laughed at their banter, Susanna glanced around the kitchen searching for the ingredients for her special recipe. Her heart skipped when she located molasses, pecans and even vanilla. She couldn’t wait to ask Angela to help her. Yet even as she planned, she chided herself. Her growing desire to please Nate in every way only added to her slippery hold on her heart.
Chapter Fourteen
“Don’t forget the barn raising at the Eberly place this coming Thursday,” Reverend Thomas announced as he stepped down from the podium after his sermon. “Not that I think any of you will.” Chuckling, he walked up the aisle toward the door. “Some people will do any kind of work to chow down at one of Joe’s barbecue feasts.”
Nate laughed along with the rest of the congregation as they all stood to leave the church. Although he didn’t think any cook in the San Luis Valley could compete with Angela, he did agree that Joe ranked right near Pam Williams as second best. Remembering his discussion with Susanna while they were out on the trail, he leaned against her lightly in the pew.
“Maybe you’ll fix one of your family recipes.” He gave her his most charming grin and wiggled his eyebrows. “I seem to recall your bragging about them.”
“Nate Northam.” She sniffed with artificial haughtiness. “I never did any such
thing.” Her pretty face creased into a cute, teasing smirk. “But you just wait and see. You’re the one who’ll be bragging that you know me.” She peered around him, and her smile vanished as she scooted out of the pew.
Nate didn’t have to turn to know the Colonel was responsible for the change in her. As much as he didn’t want to look at his father, his head swiveled involuntarily. He lifted his hat from the pew and gave the Colonel a curt nod. “Nice sermon.”
“Glad you were listening.” His father’s eyes darted briefly toward the door, where Susanna stood in line waiting to chat with Reverend Thomas. “Maybe you’ll take heed.”
For a moment, Nate couldn’t grasp his meaning. Then some of the passages the preacher read from Proverbs came to mind, and he could barely resist slamming his fist into his father’s stubborn jaw. If Susanna heard his insulting remark, the Colonel deserved nothing less.
Lord, forgive me. Here I am in Your house, and I’m thinking such sinful thoughts. But what am I supposed to do, to feel, when the Colonel is so unfair and judgmental against someone so sweet and innocent? Someone I can’t help but care for? Help me, Lord, ’cause it’s a sure thing I can’t help myself.
He moved out of the pew and followed the rest of the congregation toward the door. Susanna had stepped out onto the front stoop and stood shaking hands with the preacher.
“Daddy would be so pleased if you could come visit, Reverend Thomas.” She gazed up at the preacher with a sweet, guileless smile that would charm a grizzly bear.
A wave of jealously swept over Nate, almost knocking him off his feet. Reverend Thomas was a bachelor, just like Seamus, who’d flirted with Susanna earlier in the week. Only the minister wasn’t some free-ranging cowpoke, but a godly, upright man. Rebellion kicked up inside Nate. Maybe the preacher could marry Maisie. That would show the Colonel. It would also set Nate free to court Susanna. Court! There was that word again, one that increasingly sprang up in his mind like the pesky cowlick on the back of his head.
Conviction struck hard on the heels of those thoughts. Anger. Jealousy. Rebellion. Right here in God’s house. Nate mentally slammed a fist into his own square jaw, a replica of his father’s he stared at every morning when he shaved. Until he dealt with those faults, those sins, he wasn’t fit to court—or marry—anybody.
* * *
After overhearing the Colonel’s insulting words, clearly aimed at her, Susanna appreciated the warm firmness of Reverend Thomas’s grip as he shook her hand. She thrust aside all unpleasant thoughts and gave her full attention to the minister. In his eyes, she noticed a brief spark that hinted at something beyond pastoral interest. Nothing improper, of course. Merely the look of an unmarried gentleman appraising an unmarried lady. A Southern gentleman, she reminded herself, and therefore a prime candidate for the fulfillment of her lifelong dreams. But she doubted he would want to leave his church and go back to the South. And as she returned his gaze, no emotions somersaulted through her chest. No giddy sentiments caused her hand to tremble. Instead, she felt just plain comfortable, as she did with her kindly old minister back home.
“I’ll be happy to visit your father, Miss Anders,” Reverend Thomas said. “You just name the day and time.”
“Why not today, Reverend?” Mrs. Northam came up beside Susanna and put her arm around her waist. “It’s been too long since you’ve been out to the ranch for Sunday dinner, and we’d be delighted if you’d come. It would give us an excuse to cook something special on a Sunday instead of eating leftovers. I know my boys would appreciate it.”
The joy that surged through Susanna and brought tears to her eyes had nothing to do with romantic feelings. Mrs. Northam’s kind touch reminded her of Mama’s loving embraces. More than that, her hospitality to this fine minister would mean he could talk with Daddy this very day, maybe encourage him and help them find another place to live.
If the Colonel thought she hadn’t heard his despicable comment to Nate, he was sadly mistaken. Or perhaps he’d meant for her to hear. Either way, she just had to get away from his wicked judgments.
She might not be a perfect Christian, but she wasn’t like the immoral woman in Proverbs, not in any way. All her life, Mama had set an example of being a godly Proverbs 31 woman. And all Susanna’s life, that was exactly what she’d also striven to be, as did every Southern lady she knew. But what would a Yankee colonel know of such things? The way General Sherman and his troops had swept through the South, murdering and pillaging as they went, they’d never honored Southern women nor cared whether they lived or died. How hypocritical of the Colonel to cast aspersions on her character when his own moral behavior was reprehensible.
Once they all arrived at the ranch, Susanna offered to help in the kitchen because it was Angela and Rita’s day off. Last week, the family had eaten sandwiches and spent the day resting. With Reverend Thomas as their guest, however, Mrs. Northam insisted upon a more formal meal. While the ladies cooked, Nate kindly offered to take the minister upstairs to meet Daddy.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Mrs. Northam patted Susanna’s arm as she peeled potatoes. “On the rare Sunday when we have company, Rosamond and I always have to rush around to get the meal on the table. It’s so nice to have an extra pair of helping hands.”
“You’re very welcome, ma’am.” Susanna put on her best, brightest smile, but her heart ached. Was this dear lady so blind to her husband’s faults that she couldn’t see how he treated their unwilling guest?
Rosamond stoked the fire in the cast-iron stove, placed a large skillet on top and lay flour-covered pieces of chicken into the bacon grease left from breakfast. Soon the aromas mingled into a mouthwatering scent that filled the room and probably the rest of the house.
Trying to ignore her growling stomach, Susanna decided she would take her own dinner upstairs to eat with Daddy so she could avoid the Colonel. Maybe Reverend Thomas would eat with them. No, of course not. He’d accepted Mrs. Northam’s invitation, so he would dine with the family. At least the minister was with Daddy now. She would pray Daddy would inquire about another place to live, but last night he seemed more than content to stay at Four Stones. Of course, hidden away in Nate’s bedroom, he didn’t have to put up with the Colonel’s constant censure. What would he think if she told him about the Colonel’s insinuation this morning? She couldn’t tell him, of course, for it would only grieve him that he was unable to protect her.
Tolley burst through the kitchen door, his black Sunday suit changed for a blue shirt and denim trousers. “I’m starved. How soon will dinner be ready?”
Susanna found his youthful brashness a welcome interruption to her unhappy thoughts, but she couldn’t help but wish his oldest brother would come to the kitchen, too.
“If you set the table, it’ll be ready a lot sooner.” Mrs. Northam put a pan of bread into the oven, then brushed strands of frizzy gray-brown hair from her face with the back of her hand.
“That’s women’s work.” Tolley sauntered over to the sideboard and snatched up a leftover biscuit from breakfast.
Turning chicken over in the skillet, Rosamond snorted in a rather unladylike way.
“Humph.” Mrs. Northam nudged her son with her elbow. “Then get out of my kitchen so we can finish our women’s work.”
“What women’s work?” Nate breezed through the door, and Susanna’s heart did its usual somersault. “How can I help?” He gave Tolley a meaningful look. What a good example he set for his youngest brother. There went her heart again.
Tolley grimaced and put the half-eaten biscuit on the sideboard. “We can set the table.” He moved to the cabinet where his mother kept her best china.
Soon to be second-best china, Susanna thought as a tiny bolt of happiness shot through her. How could she possibly leave before seeing this kind lady receive her extraordinary gift from her extraordinarily wicked husband? That meant S
usanna would have to endure another three weeks in this house. Even then, how could she drag Daddy away when Zack and Angela took such good care of him? Unless he healed faster than he had in the past week, she would have to manage everything all by herself, an impossible task. She was stuck like a possum in a pot of tar, no question about it.
Once they’d prepared the food, Susanna found the tray Angela used to carry up Daddy’s meals and loaded it with enough for two people. Laying a linen towel over the tray, she headed for the back stairs.
“Think your father can eat all of that?” Nate cut her off and peeked under the towel, then gave her a dubious grin. “May I carry it up for you?”
“My, you’re full of questions, Nate Northam.” As much as her silly emotions had improved when he’d come to the kitchen, she’d hoped to make her escape without attracting his notice. But he’d been entirely too helpful in the meal preparations, maybe enjoying her presence as much as she enjoyed his. “I can manage very well, thank you.”
“I have no doubt you can.” His gentle tone and soft gaze soothed her bruised soul like a healing balm. Did he realize she’d heard his father’s cruel insinuations and want to make up for them? “But I’d still like to help.”
Her eyes began to burn, so she clicked her tongue dramatically and shook her head. “Land sakes, do let me get on with it before the mashed potatoes get cold.” If he didn’t let her go right this second, she’d break down and cry. How could this man be so different from his father?
* * *
Nate stepped back to let Susanna pass, and she scurried out of the room almost as if she was afraid. Not of him, but of something. That confirmed his worst suspicions. He’d come to the kitchen on the pretext of helping so he could see how she was doing. While she still had a bit of sass in her, her crestfallen posture and overly bright comments to Mother and Rosamond had made it clear she’d heard the Colonel’s remarks.
Cowboy to the Rescue Page 13
