Drina’s Choice

by Agnes Alexander

  Salty shifted his position in the saddle. “Don’t you think we should get back out there and finish rounding up them cows?”

  “All right, Salty. Why don’t you come out with it? You’ve acted all day like I was a leper. Just say what you think, and get it over with.”

  “I don’t know what you mean, Boss.”

  “The hell you don’t.”

  Salty frowned. “All right, you asked for it. I never dreamed I’d see the day you acted the way you did last night.”

  “But you didn’t…”

  “Don’t interrupt now that you’ve got me started. I know you’re a hard worker and you’ve worked your ass off getting this ranch back on its feet. You’ve been fair with the men and you’ve made a place for yourself in town just like all the ranchers around here. Then, when your uncle demanded you get married, you seemed to change. To put it mildly, you’ve become a selfish bastard. It don’t seem to matter to you how your actions affect other people. When you walked up those stairs with that woman last night instead of staying home with your new wife, all the respect I’ve built up for the way you’ve lived beforehand seemed to fly out the window. I don’t know the man you’ve become.”

  “I don’t understand your thinking, Salty. I’ve taken women up the stairs at the Swinging Door before last night.”

  “But you weren’t a married man until last night.”

  “What does my so-called marriage have to do with it? You know good and well I was forced into that.”

  “So what? You did it, and you should have had enough respect for that sweet little gal not to disgrace her on her wedding night.”

  “I didn’t do a thing to her. She didn’t seem to mind that I left.”

  “What was she supposed to do? Beg you to stay with her?”

  Aaron frowned. “Of course not. Besides, how did you know I went to town last night?”

  “When I saw you ride out and not come back, I decided to go to town to see what was going on. By the time I got to the Swinging Door, you was already half drunk. I had ’bout decided to drag you out of there when you disappeared upstairs.”

  “I don’t need a watch dog.” Aaron was becoming frustrated.

  “I’m not so sure. Every man in the saloon was flabbergasted that you’d spend your wedding night with a whore instead of your bride. I’m sure everybody in town knows the story by now.”

  “So what if they do? It’s none of their business.”

  “Maybe not, but how do you think it will make Miz Drina feel when she goes into Hatchet Springs and learns she’s the laughing stock of the area? Or is that somethin’ else you don’t give a damn about?” Salty pulled his horses head around by the reins. “Now you know what I think, and it’s past time I got back to rounding up them strays.” Without giving Aaron time to answer he rode off toward the errant cattle.

  Aaron stared after him. I don’t care how much I think of him, I shouldn’t let him get away with talking to me like that. After all, what business is it of his where I go and what I do? How would he feel if he’d been forced to marry a stranger just to keep something he loves as much as I care for this ranch? I think he may have acted the same way I did. Besides, Miss Drina Hamilton had her reasons for marrying me, too, and from what I can tell it wasn’t because she couldn’t wait to jump in my bed.

  Picking up the hat he’d lost while chasing the calf, he swatted it against his knee to get rid of some of the dust. Plopping it on his head, he walked to his horse and mounted, still furious and muttering, “I’ll have to have a serious talk with him later, but he’s right about one thing. We need to get all these cows rounded up.”

  Chapter 5

  Beulah bent to take the ham out of the oven. “Miz Drina, I’ve told you that you don’t have to help me with this supper. Setting the table was enough for you to do.”

  Dina laughed. “And I’ve told you, I don’t mind helping. I need to do something. I can’t sit around here and twiddle my thumbs.”

  “Why don’t you sew or something? Can you stitch a garment as well as your sister?”

  “I’m not as good as Hannah, but I can put together a few things and I don’t have many clothes. I could use a dress or two. The problem is, I don’t have any cloth.”

  “That ain’t a problem. You can go into town and get some cloth at the mercantile. They have a lot to choose from.”

  “That would take money, Beulah and that’s something I have very little of.”

  Beulah turned and looked at her. “Lands-a-sakes, girl. You don’t need no money. All you have to do is go into Ragsdale’s store, pick out what you want and add it to Mr. Aaron’s account. He keeps one going there all the time.”

  “Oh, my. I couldn’t do that. He might not like it.”

  “He won’t care. Besides, if he did, you’re his wife—and Mrs. Aaron Wilcox has a right to buy anything you want and add it to his bill.”

  “Maybe I’ll ask him if I could get enough material for a dress when he comes in for supper.”

  “If you feel you must, ask him. But as I said, he won’t mind.”

  “I hear some horses coming. At least, I think that’s what I hear.”

  “It’s the men coming in for the day. Now don’t fret if Mr. Aaron is a little ornery. He often is when he’s worked all day without taking a mid-day dinner break.”

  “Why does he do that?”

  “What? Get ornery or go without a mid-day meal?”

  “Both, I guess.” Drina couldn’t help smiling.

  “Well, he goes without the meal because they work a long way from the house when they’re rounding up cattle for branding, and he gets grumpy because he’s like most men, he don’t like missing a meal. Food is one of his favorite things.” She nodded toward the dining room. “Now, you go on and set down and I’ll start bringing in the food.”

  “I can help do that.”

  Beulah shook her head. “What am I going to do with you? I’ve never seen a woman who wants to work as much as you do.”

  “I’m not used to being waited on, Beulah. In fact, I’m used to doing the work. I had to wait on my pa.” She picked up the butter and the bowl of raw vegetables she’d cut up.

  “Well, it’s time you let somebody take care of you.” Beulah followed her.

  There was the sound of boots in the kitchen. “Where are you, Beulah? I’m hungry.”

  Beulah shook her head again. “We’re in the dining room. If you’ve washed up, you can come on in here.”

  The door opened and he paused and stared at the two women. Drina wasn’t prepared for the shiver that went down her spine when she saw his frame in the doorway. His shirt was wet in spots from perspiration and his denims clung to his lean frame. His hair was in disarray and there were some smudges of dirt on his muscled arms where his sleeves were rolled up. She looked away before he could notice her interest.

  * * * *

  He didn’t notice the look on Drina’s face as he turned toward his housekeeper. “Why are you setting up the dining room?”

  “ ’Cause you’re going to start eating supper here.”

  “The kitchen table has been fine for us for a long time. Why are you changing now?”

  “Things have changed around here and we need to change some habits. I put a pitcher of warm water on your dresser. Now go to your room and wash up a little and change your shirt. I’ll have your supper on the table by the time you get back.”

  He started to argue, but was too tired. Beulah usually got her way, anyhow. Besides, his quiet little wife was already seated at the table, and he figured there was no need to carry everything back to the kitchen.

  In his room, Aaron removed his dirty shirt and dropped it to the floor. He poured the warm water into the big basin which was trimmed in yellow flowers, roses he figured. There was also a row of shaded blue around the edge. The basin matched the pitcher holding the water. For some reason, the thought that his grandpa must have once poured his bathwater from this same pitcher sometime in the past
crossed his mind.

  He chuckled and picked up the wash cloth and began washing his upper body. What a dumb thought to have. Just because I’ve been told this was the one thing left to my pa from his mother is no reason to imagine what Grandpa Wilcox might have done or not done when he and Grandma owned it.

  In less than fifteen minutes, he joined Drina in the dining room. She looked a little uneasy when he sat down. She looks like she thinks I’m going to hit her or something. I don’t want the woman being afraid of me. I’m not going to hurt her.

  “Here you go,” Beulah came in the room with the coffee pot. “I know you can’t eat a thing until you get your coffee, no matter what meal you’re eating.”

  He nodded.

  “Would you like more tea, Miz Drina?”

  “I still have plenty, Beulah, but thank you for asking.”

  “Then if you need anything, I’ll be in the kitchen.”

  “Aren’t you going to sit down and eat with us?” Aaron looked at her.

  “No. I already eat all I want.”

  “But you usually…” His protest wasn’t heard because she’d already slipped through the kitchen door and closed it behind her.

  He turned to look at Drina wondering what to say to her. He didn’t have to come up with anything because she spoke first.

  “May I ask you something?”’

  “I don’t see any reason why you can’t.”

  “Beulah does most of the work around here and she doesn’t want my help. I feel I should have something to keep me busy. I like to sew, and Beulah said I could go into go into town and buy some material to make a dress. Would that be all right with you?”

  “Of course. Why in the world would you think you had to ask me if you can get the makings of a dress?”

  She dropped her head. “I guess I didn’t ask the question right.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I have very little money, but she told me I could use your account at the general store.”

  He looked at her a long minute. He didn’t understand why she’d felt she had to ask him if she could use his account. She was, after all, his wife. Ariel sure hadn’t asked when she wanted to buy something at the store, and buy she did. Often. Finally he said, “Feel free to use my account anytime you want to. If there’s anything else you need, you don’t have to ask. Just get it and charge it to me.”

  He watched as surprise covered her face. “Really?”

  “Of course, really.” He studied her for a minute. “Didn’t you use your father’s account back in Savannah?”

  Her eyes got big. “I don’t think he had an account. As I stated in my letter, we were poor. At times I had to….” Her voice trailed off.

  Aaron paused as he was cutting into the ham. “At times you had to do what?”

  She bit her lip. “I’m sure you’re not interested.”

  He didn’t want to tell her he never read her letter. “That’s not so. I don’t remember much of what was in your letter, and I am interested.”

  Drina shrugged. “My older sister and her husband own a saloon in Savannah. They’re not rich, but they had more than Pa and I did. Sometimes our pantry would be so empty I’d have to go to Lydia to borrow money just to buy food. Pa didn’t like me doing this and he’d….” again her voice failed to continue.

  Aaron was interested now. What had this woman been through? He prompted her to go on. “What did your father do?”

  “If he found out I’d asked Lydia for help, he’d whip me.”

  “Whip you? Like a child?”

  “Not exactly.” She bit her lip again. “He’d use his horsewhip.”

  It was his turn to be surprised. “You’re kidding.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

  “I’m not the nicest person in the world, but I’d never hit a woman with a whip. Why didn’t you get a job and move away?”

  “That’s easier said than done for a woman, Mr. Wilcox.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “My sister did offer me a job in her saloon, but I could never do that kind of work.” She laid down her fork. “I’m sorry I said anything about the material, Mr. Wilcox. I never dreamed it’d lead to a discussion with you about my pa. I’m happy to be away from him, but I don’t like the idea of saying bad things about my only parent. It’s not something a daughter should do, even if she was treated badly.”

  “I shouldn’t have asked you such a personal question in the first place. Please don’t let it interfere with your meal. I won’t ask you anything else about your pa.”

  “Thank you.” She picked up her fork.

  “As for the cloth you want, the next time you’re in town, go into the general store and buy yourself two or three pieces. That should keep you busy for a while.”

  She gave him a half smile. “Thank you, Mr. Wilcox.”

  “One more thing. I think I told you to call me Aaron, not Mr. Wilcox. We’re married, remember?”

  “I know we got married, but we’re still strangers, Mr…Aaron.”

  “That’s better Dena.”

  She frowned. “It’s Drina.”“Oh. I should have been paying closer attention.”

  * * * *

  She stared at him. Yes, you should. I can’t believe you married me and you don’t even know my name. What kind of man are you?

  After a few minutes of silence, he said, “Are you offended because I messed up your name?”

  Drina bit her lip. What was she going to tell him? Would he understand whatever she said? Maybe she ought to let him know how offensive his remark was. Before she could stop herself, she muttered. “Wouldn’t you be a little upset if someone married you without knowing your name?”

  He shrugged and kept eating as if it wouldn’t have bothered him at all.

  Drina studied the man before her. He certainly didn’t have the characteristics of the men she’d known. Her brother-in-law, Bradly Patterson kept his appearance neat at all times. He wore his suits and brocaded vests and he kept his dark blond hair trimmed to perfection. When Drina once asked Lydia why he was so particular, her reply had been, “Bradly says nobody wants to come into one’s business establishment and wonder if the owner is on the verge of bankruptcy. He always wants to look his best and he wants me to look my best, too.”

  Then, there was her father. A man who cared nothing about his appearance or would never bother to work hard to keep the land he owned. His main goal in life seemed to be swilling his homebrew and making his daughters’ lives miserable. He’d never had any kind of job and never would have. Burl Hamilton would always live on that small piece of land fifteen miles from Savannah which he had owned since his father died and left it to him. He would be the owner as long as he could scrape up the money to pay the taxes on the property, but other than a few chores around the farm, work wasn’t in his make-up. If Drina was any judge of character, it never would be.

  As she continued to look at her husband, she realized Aaron’s dark hair needed a trim and his same color eyebrows were full and moved sometimes when he changed his facial expression. There was a shadow of a beard on his high cheeks and square jaw. His shoulders were broad and his arms were muscular. When he picked up a biscuit with his left hand she noticed the scars and scrapes on the backs and fingers. His right hand seemed to have as many or more abrasions as the left. They were the hands of a hard worker. Someone who wasn’t averse to doing whatever it took to complete a job no matter how hard or complicated it was. The type of man who knew who he was and what he wanted out of life and would do anything it took to reach that goal even if it meant marrying a stranger to get what he wanted. She wasn’t sure why his hands held so much interest for her, but they did. As before she wondered what it would feel like if those hands touched her.

  Aaron’s voice broke into her thoughts. “You’re not eating. Aren’t you hungry?”

  “Not much.”

  He pushed back his plate. “I guess you do need something to do if
you don’t feel like you’ve done enough work to build up an appetite. I come in every evening and feel as if I’ll starve before I get to the table.”

  Instead of letting him see he’d offended her again by saying she needing something to do, she took a deep breath and said, “I guess you do get hungry. You must work hard on your ranch.”

  One of his eyebrows went up. He looked as if he couldn’t believe she’d noticed how hard he worked. “You’re right. It takes a lot of backbreaking work to run a ranch this size.”

  To continue the conversation she started to ask him how big the ranch was, but Beulah came bursting into the dining room before she could speak.

  The housekeeper looked perturbed. “Mr. Aaron, Cabe got snake bit out on the range, but he made it back to the house. Salty says it looks bad and you need to come.”

  Without saying anything, Aaron shoved back his chair and hurried out of the room.

  Drina looked at Beulah. “What happened?”

  “I’ll explain later. I’ve got to go see if I can help. Sometimes it takes an old Indian cure for this sort of thing.” Beulah followed Aaron out the door.

  Drina knew there would be little she could do, but she decided she’d go see what was going on. At least it would let the ranch hands know she cared enough to see about the injured man. Besides, she’d heard those awful rattlesnakes were plentiful in this part of the country and they could often, if not always, be deadly. She didn’t want to let anyone suffer if she could do something to help. Even if that help was only a simple prayer.

  A skinny cowboy lay on the back porch when Drina stepped outside. He was sweating profusely and he was moaning as Beulah and Salty worked on a nasty looking wound on his swollen leg.

  “I need to get him to the doctor,” Aaron said.

  “I don’t think he has time,” Beulah informed him. She glanced up and said to Drina, “Would you bring me the kettle of hot water I have on the stove? I’ve got to wash this out before it starts to fester.”

  “I’ll get it.” Aaron was back in the house before Drina could turn around to go inside.

  “I need a sharp knife,” Salty said.