Luke leaned back against the stable wall and banged his head on the boards as he moaned, “What have I done?”
“I started the whole mess, not ordering the bridles from the feedstore.” Jim kicked at the earth and stared at Matty as the kitchen door banged behind her. Humming and swinging a bucket, she headed toward the milk cow. “Little brother, we’re gonna have to bird-dog those women all day and scare off the undesirables.”
“What a catastrophe.”
“Here’s the plan….”
Chapter 8
Matty tried not to wiggle as Corrie used the curling iron to help her finish her coiffure. They’d studied the pictures in Godey’s Lady’s Book and decided this one would suit her. “You look beautiful,” Corrie proclaimed.
Matty laughed. “Somehow, it never seems quite right for us to say that to each other.”
Bess finished pinning Mama’s cameo to her bodice. “All we need is to convince the men to rent us the jail. Then we won’t have to jump into any marriages.”
“Jumping behind bars instead of over a broom.” Bertie laughed as she swiped a finger around the base of a cake and licked off the icing.
The kitchen door opened. Jim stood at the threshold and scanned the room. He shook his head. “Bess, take off that jewelry. You don’t want anyone thinking you’re an heiress. Bertie, get your hair out of that—that—” He spiraled his forefinger in the air in a gesture of masculine hopelessness. “Put it in plaits.”
“Plaits! I’m seventeen!”
Jim strode across the kitchen, his boots ringing on each plank. “Too young to get married, and that’s exactly what we’re telling the men.”
Matty scooted free from her twin’s fussing. “What about Corrie?”
Jim stared at her then glanced at Corrie. He looked back at her. “Try your best to make Corrie look drab—plainest widow’s weeds, and be sure she’s wearing that mourning brooch.”
Bess leaned against the table. “James, I do believe I like the way you think.”
Still, he continued to keep eye contact with Matty. She felt her cheeks growing hot under his scrutiny. He growled, “Do you remember what I told you before we went to church?”
“Smile and nod?” she said in a strangled tone.
“Well, I don’t want you doing either today. For once in your life, try not to befriend everyone who talks to you.”
“But how am I going to find a husband if—”
“Woman, when God’s good and ready, He’ll put a man in your life. Until then, use sense instead of smiles. It’ll keep you outta trouble.” He started to walk away but turned back around. “One more thing: wash off that flowery-smelling stuff you dab on. It’s enough to drive a man daft.”
The kitchen door closed behind him, and everyone stayed quiet for an embarrassing stretch of time. Matty drew in a breath then tried to sound breezy. “Well, how do you like that? The oil worked. The door doesn’t squeak anymore.”
Corrie shot her a knowing look. “It’s not the hinges that matter—it’s a secure latch.”
A secure latch … Corrie’s words echoed in Matty’s mind as she wandered across the barnyard at noon. She’d never seen so many men in one place. Every last one of them tried to capture her attention.
“Miss, yore purdy enuff to make a man dizzy.”
“Your collar’s too tight, Nitwit,” the man next to him said as he elbowed him out of the way. “Miss Matilda, I’ve got me a right fine piece of land and a good start-up herd.”
“He’s lucky if he’s got a dozen head,” Mr. Smit hooted. From what Matty gathered, he’d been an original settler and boasted a fair spread and a sizable herd.
Not five minutes later, Matty saw Mr. Start-Up over by Corrie. She hastened over to rescue her sister.
“A right fine place. Forty acres—”
“Excuse me,” Matty interrupted. She got up on tiptoe and whispered, “My sister is newly widowed.”
“Then I s’pose she’s mighty lonesome.”
To Matty’s relief, Jim wrapped his arm around that persistent man’s shoulders and led him off a ways. He murmured something, and the guy cast Corrie a terrified look then hastened toward Bess.
If a man ever kept busier than Jim did, Matty hadn’t met him. She saw him stride toward the knot of men surrounding Bertie, elbow his way in, and playfully yank one of her plaits.
“Okay, baby girl, you’ve had a chance to talk with the grown-ups for a while. Scamper off to the stable now and go play with your kitties.” He gave her a meaningful look. “Scotty’s there. He’ll keep an eye on you.”
The men all complained. “She ain’t no baby,” one protested more loudly than the others.
“Why, Mr. Squires,” Matty cooed as she hastened to Jim’s side, “I’m certain you’re not disagreeing with our host, are you?”
“She come out here as a bride,” the feedstore owner groused.
“You’re right,” Matty agreed. “But that was before we understood what it would take to be a bride out here in a rugged man’s world.”
“You’re not going to fight over me, are you?”
Matty wanted to pinch her sister for sounding thrilled over such an appalling prospect.
“You’re worth a fight,” the blacksmith, Amos Freeling, said as he twisted the end of his handlebar moustache.
Jim took Bertie by the shoulders, turned her toward the stable, and gave her a tiny push. “You run along now, squirt.” He glowered at the men. “Stop scaring her. Poor thing. How’d you like it if a bunch of men chased after your kid sister?”
Baffled and shamefaced, the men muttered to themselves. Matty took pity on them. “I do hope you men are helping yourselves to the barbecue. It smells delicious.”
“I’d be honored to escort you to the table.” Hank proffered his arm.
Before she could reply, Jim grabbed her. “Sorry. Go on ahead, and Matilda will try to catch up with you. Her sister needs her.”
Matty craned her neck to look for Bess. Jim didn’t wait. He started hauling her toward the pump. “What—?”
“Trust me,” Jim gritted. “This man is a scoundrel. Bess deserves better.”
“Matty, this is Clyde Kincaid,” Bess said as soon as they approached. “He owns the cattle ranch next door.”
“Mr. Kincaid.” Matty nodded to him coolly.
“Collingswood, it’s about time you let us all have a chance at these women.” Clyde waggled his brows. “I know I’m not alone, saying I’m ready to take ’em off your hands.”
“Actually, there is an alternative—an excellent alternative.” Bess squared her shoulders. “My sisters and I have decided to ask you kind gentlemen to take a community vote, since it seems the entire township is here today. We’d like to rent the jail and live in town. That way, we can have time to get to know all of you and—”
“Why bother?” Clyde slashed the air with his hand. “Only four of you. I say, those of us who speak up first get you.”
“I agree.” Jim gave a curt nod.
Matty almost fell over from the shock.
Jim reached over, snagged Bess by the waistband of her apron, and gave her a tug. At the same time, he clenched his arm around Matty and dragged her so close to his side, she couldn’t have wedged a broom straw between them. “I spoke first. They’re mine—all four of ’em. They’re not going into town. Until I give my approval, they’re not marrying up with anyone.”
Clyde stomped off, and Bess turned on Jim. “Whatever got into you? How dare you foul up my plan?”
“Bess, look around. You’re a capable woman, and I don’t doubt for a minute that you’d be able to manage in town.” As he spoke, Jim let go of Bess and absently stroked Matty’s shoulder. She fought the urge to lean into him as he continued to speak. “But think of your sisters. Bertie’s far too naive and will get into a peck of trouble, and Corrie needs to be sheltered.”
“Matty and I can—”
“You will both stay here with your sisters until other arrange
ments—safe, wise arrangements—can be made. I—”
A commotion over on the porch made them all turn around. Luke smashed his fist into someone’s face and knocked him clear over the railing. By the time Matty and Bess caught up with Jim, Luke already had Corrie in his arms and was carrying her to the door.
“What happened?” Bess breathlessly jerked open the door.
“Yahoos and idiots, the whole pack of them,” Luke muttered.
“Corrie—” Matty rushed in and wet a cloth. She blotted her sister’s wan face.
“Fainted again. I’ll carry her upstairs.”
“Bess, Lanky’s right outside the door. Have him go alongside you to the stable and drag Bertie back in here,” Jim ordered. “I don’t want her out there with that pack of woman-hungry wolves.”
Luke headed up the stairs, Bess scurried outside, and Jim stood with his arms akimbo as he glared at Matty. “I can’t for the life of me figure out what I did that got God so all-fired mad at me that He dropped you in my lap, but He did. As long as He stuck you here, you’re corralled here on the Rough Cs, and I expect you to keep your sisters reined in.”
Matty shoved the damp towel in her hands at his chest. “If you’re done listing your woes, I’ll go see to my sister now.” Without waiting for a response, she dashed from the room.
Jim tossed the wet rag onto the kitchen table, grimaced, and headed outside. He stood on the porch and looked over all of Lickwind’s residents. The savory smell of barbecue hung in the air, but Jim knew good and well the dishes the men wanted weren’t on the table. Lanky strutted along between Bess and Bertie, trying to skirt around the edge of the yard; but even then, they couldn’t go two steps without someone trying to waylay the women.
Jim had hated to leave Matty’s side for even one moment today, fearing all of the men would flock to her. The woman didn’t understand just how beguiling men found her. Just looking at her could make a man’s heart gallop, but the sound of her laughter—well, his heart just melted then. Jim wouldn’t allow it. No, he wouldn’t. She deserved far better than any man Lickwind had to offer.
At least for the moment, she was in the house and safe. He found a scrap of relief in that fact as he waited for Bess to plow ahead and propel Bertie into the kitchen. Josiah stopped Bess for a moment. Now there was a handsome man who had land and money enough to support her—but Bess gave him a look that would curdle milk and kept Bertie marching.
Males couldn’t leave the Craig females alone. Why, even stupid Ramon had managed to get into Rhubarb’s stall and dragged in scraps from the pig trough for the mama cat. The kitchen door banged shut, and Jim refocused his attention.
“Men.” Then he whistled loudly and fleetingly recalled Matty had done the same thing back at the train station the day she’d arrived. “Listen up.” He curled his hands around the porch railing, scanned the crowd, and waited for them to grow quiet.
“How’s the little lady?” Chico asked. “Heard she swooned.”
“Matilda is tucking the widow in for a nap.” Jim narrowed his eyes at a man nursing a bloody bandana over his nose. “I suspect by now, you’ve all heard tell the Widow Taylor is in the family way. After just burying her husband and finding out she’s got a little one on the way, she’s in no condition to take on a new husband.”
“That still leaves three!”
“Jones, you always were fast with your figurin’ at the mercantile.” Jim hoped to lighten the tone for a moment so they’d take his news better. “Since you’re so good with numbers, let me give you another one: seventeen. Bertie isn’t even out of the schoolroom, and I won’t let her wed for a full year yet.”
“Her kin sent her out here. That’s consent enough,” Mr. Smit shouted.
“That would be the same lazy, no-good brother-in-law who stole their dairy farm.”
The men began to scuffle their boots in the dirt.
Amos let out a gust of a sigh. “I got a good look at the youngest, fellas. She’s got a crop of freckles that make her look cute as a speckled pup. We’d be robbin’ a cradle if we took her to wife.”
Relief threaded through Jim. Men might well argue with him over the issue because he looked downright selfish over the whole matter, but few men were foolish enough to cross the hulking blacksmith. Matty’s kid sister ought to be safe for a while. Now he could concentrate on sweet little Matty.
Luke stomped out of the house. He didn’t even come to a stop before he thundered, “There are women, then there are ladies. The Rough Cs only has ladies. Do I make myself clear?”
“Well,” Jones finally said, “that leaves two ladies. Now what’re you gonna say, Jim?”
“I’m gonna say that since you’re so good at sums and differences, I’ll graduate to fractions.” Jim widened his stance and lifted his chin. “Possession is nine-tenths of the law. The women are here. I sent for ’em, and they’re mine.”
Later that night, Jim slipped one last little bit of barbecued beef to Rhubarb and kicked hay into a pile for his bed. “Luke, you made quite a scene today.”
“I was just protecting the gals.”
“You went far past protective and hit possessive.”
Luke folded his arms over the wall of the stall and gave him an amused look. “I did? You’re not one to cast stones.”
“Knock it off. I’m doing what Ma always taught us from the Bible—you know: taking care of the widows and orphans.”
The stable rang with Luke’s laughter. “If you’re going to start quoting the Bible, I hope you don’t hearken back to the Old Testament. Men back then had multiple wives, and I distinctly heard you announce the women were all yours.”
Matty looked at the neat rows of vegetables they’d planted and felt a twinge. Jim declared nothing would grow in the sandy soil, but for all of his grousing, he’d come out and plowed a nice patch for her. Soon the seeds Bess brought from home sprouted. If only love would flower so easily.
“Wonder if we’ll be here for harvest,” Bertie said as she leaned on her hoe.
“I don’t know. Still, Jim and Luke have been so good to us; the least we can do is keep a garden.”
Bertie snorted. “You pointed out how good they’ve been, so we’re gardening and making cheese. Corrie felt thankful, so she had us making them shirts. Bess is glad, so we’re going berrying and making jam. The only thing I’m grateful for is the fact that I don’t have more sisters out here, or I’d have to do more work!”
“Cheer up. Jim said Rhubarb is ready to be moved back into the house. Ask Corrie for a feed sack. You can stuff it, put it in a box, and make a bed for the kittens.”
Bertie started hoeing again. “Betcha she gives me that one with the purple zigzags on it. It’s the only one of that pattern.”
“Good thing, too. I’ve never seen an uglier pattern.” Just last week, Jim had led Matty into the stable, opened the door on a huge wooden bin, and five years of empty feed sacks tumbled out. The memory of his generosity warmed her heart.
Bess and she had sneaked away with a few sweet little prints so they could sew baby clothes as a surprise and a few darker solids that would make much-needed maternity clothes for Corrie, who now wore her dresses unbuttoned beneath her loosely tied apron. Jim and Buckwheat carried the rest of the feed sacks over to the porch. It took a whole morning to wash them, but it felt like Christmas.
After all of the sacks were dry, Jim carried them into the house and watched for a while as the sisters matched up all of the patterns. He shook his head at what a production they made of it, but Matty laughed and said, “You started this!”
“Doesn’t take much to make you happy,” he said.
“After watching you eat almost half a jar of gooseberry jam this morning, I could say the same thing.”
“Thanks for reminding me.” He paced off to the kitchen and started banging around. Matty knew to expect the jar to be scraped clean. Jim’s mother must have brought jars when they started up the ranch, and as fast as Matty could fill jars with ja
m, he’d empty them.
Each sister had selected fabric to make a shirt for each of the brothers; then she chose a pattern to make a new dress for herself. Word was, the town planned to throw a celebration for Wyoming being declared a territory, and the Craig sisters figured it would be a good excuse for new dresses. Several feed sacks remained, earmarked for dish towels, quilts, and more clothing. Still, that purple zigzag didn’t have a match.
Bertie managed to strike a small stone with her hoe and made it flip into the air. It hit Matty’s skirt and pulled her back to the present.
“For all of the feed sacks I’ve ever seen, I never saw one like that purple one,” Bertie said.
“I haven’t either.”
God, am I like that feed sack—so peculiar that I’ll never have a mate? Could it be that when You designed me, You had a specific pattern in mind so I’d suit only one special man? If that man were Jim Collingswood—
“So do we have a deal?” Bertie asked.
“Huh?” I really need to stop daydreaming. Matty stopped musing and gave her sister a questioning look.
“For true, Matty, you know how much I hate to sew. If I do the dishes for you for the next month, will you sew both of the shirts for me?”
“Laundry, not dishes.”
Bertie glowered from beneath her brown felt hat.
“I’m being more than fair, and you know it.”
“You? Fair?” a familiar nasal whine said from behind her.
Matty spun around. “Ellis! What are you doing here?”
His beady eyes scanned the ranch. “I’m here, dear sisters-in-law, to collect on a debt.”
Chapter 9
A saloon wasn’t the most suitable location for a trial, but it was the biggest room in town. In honor of the auspicious occasion, Gideon Riker allowed all of the tables to be removed. Row upon row of benches and chairs filled the establishment.
Bartered Bride Romance Collection Page 24
