“Oh, yes!” Corrie hadn’t realized how stiff those muscles were. “Too bad you can’t just spend the day doing this.”
As the days of the men’s absence passed, Corrie voiced her discomforts more than she usually did. Pampering Corrie seemed to take Matty’s mind off her husband’s absence. For her part, Corrie enjoyed being alone with her sisters. Even the ranch hands, with the exception of Scotty, had gone herding with Jim and Luke. Other than a knock on the door and a quiet, twice-a-day, “You ladies okay up here?” Scotty kept to himself. The duties of autumn still demanded the sisters’ attention, but the pace seemed slower. Meals didn’t have to be as extensive, and thus cleanup happened more quickly.
Corrie’s baking customers were also conspicuously absent. She hoped it meant because they, too, were gathering up their herds, not because they’d decided to do without baked goods.
A third possibility revealed itself the third day after the men left. Corrie decided to give the parlor a good dusting, and she happened to look out the window as she worked. A lone rider approached the ranch.
She called to her sister in the kitchen. “Matty!”
“What?” Matty hurried into the room, wiping her hands on her apron. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. But it looks like we have a visitor and not one I’m eager to see.”
Matty peered out the window. “That Kincaid man. I know he’s one of your best customers, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to be here when Luke and Jim are gone.”
Corrie agreed. “What are we going to do?”
“Maybe we don’t have to do anything.” Matty pointed toward another rider approaching from the barn area—Scotty. Conversation seemed to pass between the two men. Clyde became visibly upset, and Scotty pointed back the direction from which Clyde had come. A bit more discussion followed, and then Clyde left the ranch.
“Well, I’ll be!” Matty declared. “Looks like Scotty’s doing guard duty. I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.”
Bess was less ambivalent. Hunched over a washtub on the back porch, she listened as Matty described what they’d seen. “I appreciate the thought, but I do wish those men would realize we can take care of ourselves! We’re just as strong as those bridles they ordered!”
Matty and Corrie giggled at the reminder of Jim’s blunder, and slowly a grin spread across Bess’s face. “I wonder how Ellis feels about owning the entire dairy now that he doesn’t have us around to keep things running.”
Corrie didn’t even want to think about it. Hard as it had been, getting sent to Lickwind and thus the Rough Cs had been the best thing to happen to her since Brian’s death. At least here she had half a chance of making it on her own, regardless of how fragile everyone seemed to think she was.
The next day, Matty decided to clean and organize the pantry. “I guess it’s my own now,” she announced after breakfast, her diffident shrug very much out of character. “I might as well know what’s in every nook and crack.”
Corrie quietly slipped into the small room to assist. With her baking temporarily halted, she had to find something to do. Bess wouldn’t think of allowing her to help pick the last of the vegetables from the garden, though she and Bertie were working tirelessly to bring the produce in before a hard frost damaged it. Matty had suggested Corrie try some needlework to keep herself busy, but Corrie found it too frustrating. While she sewed, her mind wandered into memories better left untouched. With each day of Luke’s absence, she found herself recalling more vividly Brian’s last day alive. Why Luke and Brian would share space in her thoughts, she didn’t even want to consider. Far better to keep herself busy.
It took them two full days to finish, but Matty looked highly pleased with herself at the end of it. “Doesn’t it look beautiful, Corrie? I can’t believe I actually have my own pantry. I still have to pinch myself to be sure I’m not just dreaming I’m married.”
Corrie advanced on her with a grin, fingers held as if to administer the pinch, but Matty quickly circled the table. “Now, now, Corrie dear. You mustn’t get yourself all stirred up.”
The baby kicked just then, strong enough to make Corrie gasp for a breath. Merriment vanished from Matty’s face. “Are you okay?”
Corrie nodded. When she was able to draw a full breath, she explained, “Every once in awhile this little one kicks hard enough to hurt. With legs like this, it’s got to be a boy.”
“Or one of each?” Matty’s words were teasing, but her eyes took in every detail of Corrie’s condition.
“I’m not listening.” Corrie stalked away with as much dignity as she could muster and set herself to washing the dozens of canning jars they’d found in a back corner of the pantry. Bess and Bertie’s efforts in the garden had produced heaps of fresh peas, beans, and tomatoes. Corrie guessed they’d probably insist on her shelling the peas and snapping the beans, since both jobs could be done sitting down.
But the next morning that proved impossible. No matter which chair she sat in or how she arranged her work around her, she couldn’t get comfortable. Her back ached unrelentingly. She did as much as she could while standing, but she finally asked Matty to let her peel the tomatoes or blanch the beans—anything to allow her some movement around the kitchen.
Matty’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not feeling contractions, are you?”
“No more than usual.” Corrie dismissed the concern. She really didn’t want to be fussed over today.
Her twin sensed her resistance and said nothing more. But throughout the morning, Corrie felt her sister studying her. Corrie watched the clock and sat down for her breaks before Matty could say anything. She sipped water faithfully. After lunch, she lay down on the settee in the parlor, unable to find the strength to climb the stairs. When a knock came at the door, she forced herself not to answer.
But Scotty’s quiet tones carried clearly to where she lay. “Mrs. Collingswood, ma’am, would you mind coming out to the barn for a few minutes? One of the yearlings has cut hisself on the fence wire. Mr. Jim told me if any of the animals was sicklike, to let you tend them.”
Corrie felt Matty’s rush of pleasure at her husband’s secondhand compliment. The delight in her voice made Corrie grin. “I’ll be right there as soon as I grab my kit.”
With her twin out of the way, Corrie returned to the kitchen. Reclining on the sofa hadn’t helped. Bess looked at her sharply. “Are you sure you rested enough?”
Corrie silently gave thanks Bess wasn’t as intuitive as Matty. “I’m fine. I feel better when I’m busy.”
If the mountain of vegetables hadn’t lay between them, Corrie knew Bess probably wouldn’t have given in so easily. But the work had to be done. Their winter meals depended on it.
By the time dusk closed in, neat rows of cooling jars displayed their contents. Quarts of tomatoes, tomato sauce, and green beans stood ready to feed the four sisters and two brothers throughout the months until the garden would produce food again. Shelled peas lay on the drying racks above the stove. Matty still hadn’t returned from the barn, so Corrie prepared a sandwich to take to her.
“No, you don’t,” Bess informed her. “You worked harder than you should have today, and Matty would have my scalp if I let you walk down to the barn. I’ll go.”
Corrie didn’t argue. Now that the vegetables no longer occupied her attention, she felt every muscle in her back and abdomen protesting the three days of work she’d done. She lowered herself onto the settee again to rest for a bit before going upstairs to bed. But just as she felt sleep beginning to overtake her, a cramp around her middle jolted her to full alertness.
Chapter 4
Luke’s bay splashed across the stream, and Luke resisted the urge to nudge his stallion into a trot. It would take another half hour of steady riding before they reached the ranch yard. If he showed his impatience now, Jim would have plenty of time to tease him. He’d done a good job of concealing his concern over leaving the four women with only Scotty to turn to
if things went wrong. If Jim had perceived his uneasiness, he would have known in an instant that it had nothing to do with the ever-practical Bess, the capable Matty, or even the irrepressible Bertie. All Luke’s concern focused on just one of the sisters—the one most likely to succumb to the harshness of the frontier, the one with the most to lose, the one for whom he’d never be able to provide enough protection. She still grieved for her husband. Luke saw it in her eyes every time he thought about courting her. As much as he longed to have the right to love her, he refused to take advantage of her wounded spirit. Should he ever be blessed enough to become a permanent part of her life, it would be because she wanted the love as much as he did. Though he worried often about her physical safety, her emotional well-being concerned him just as much. He could tell she worried about being a burden. What if one of his less scrupulous neighbors decided to take advantage of her vulnerability? He’d given Scotty instructions about visitors to the ranch during his absence. Now that they were back, there wasn’t much he could do to keep other men away. Her bakery business drew them like flies, as well as the appeal of her two unmarried sisters. It was an impossible situation.
As soon as the ranch house came into view, he knew something was wrong. Matty’s cow stood by the barn door bawling to be milked. The garden, at which Bess toiled continuously, lay unattended. No laundry flapped on the clotheslines. The place looked deserted.
As if reading his thoughts, Jim pulled his horse alongside Luke’s. “Doesn’t look right, does it?”
Luke shook his head. Though every cell in his body screamed at him to gallop full speed to the house, one of the brothers had to stay with the ranch hands to help get the small band of sickly calves to the barn and the horses unloaded and brushed down. As Matty’s husband, it was Jim’s right to forgo the chores. “You go on in. I’ll take care of things outside.”
The speed with which Jim spurred his horse into a gallop told Luke they shared the same sick fear. Never before had emotion gripped him so tightly. Though he’d often been concerned about his parents or his sister, never had he felt the burden of responsibility that clung to him now. He realized as he slid from his horse and opened the corral gate that, no matter what happened with any of the sisters, each of them would always be a part of his heart. He took care of the animals, even milking the cow, which was obviously well past her usual milking time. His hands ached when he finished the job. Whoever had dubbed milking cows “women’s work” had obviously never done it. He couldn’t imagine how the sisters had managed the dairy alone after their parents’ deaths. Of course, Ellis had been around; but after meeting the man, Luke strongly suspected he hadn’t been of much practical assistance. With the cow once again released to her fenced pasture, he noticed the colt occupying the far stall, his leg neatly bandaged. Luke entered the stall, murmuring calming words to the colt just as Scotty came into the barn. “Howdy, boss.”
“Hi, Scotty. What happened with this fellow?” Luke ran his hands down the colt’s leg, noticing how neatly and firmly the bandage had been applied.
“I think he snagged his leg on some fencing wire. Miz Matty fixed him right up. Didn’t even need me to hold him while she worked. As soon as she started talkin’ to him, he settled right down.”
“There’s no fever in the leg. That’s a good sign.”
“Yessir. She cleaned the cut real well. Sent me to the cook shack for clean water three times. She don’t do things by half measures.”
Luke grinned briefly to himself as he left the stall. Scotty could give no higher praise. Conscientious and thorough, he strongly admired anyone who did a job as well as he would have done it.
“Ever’thing okay up at the house?” Scotty’s inquiry told Luke what had brought the weathered cowboy to the barn.
“I don’t know,” Luke answered. “I figured Jim had more right than I did to skip out of chores.”
“For now anyway,” Scotty replied cryptically. “I haven’t seen a-one of the ladies since last night, other than when I knocked this morning and Miss Bess told me they was okay.”
The knot in Luke’s middle tightened. If one of them had been injured or fallen ill, Bess likely would have told the cowboy. Only one thing he could think of would keep all of them indoors without explanation. Corrie’s baby.
“Anything I can do for you, boss, so you can go on up to the house?”
Luke could have hugged the older man for his understanding, but it would have embarrassed them both. “Thanks, Scotty, but I think everything is done for the night. We’ll need to check out the animals we brought back from the range with us, but that can wait until tomorrow.”
“Okay then.” Scotty turned toward the door then paused. “If there’s anything wrong, let the ladies know that us at the bunkhouse will be sayin’ a few prayers.”
Luke nodded in acknowledgment. Scotty might not be the most refined of men, but he had a heart as big as the range and a faith as durable. When Scotty prayed, Luke knew God heard and responded.
The thought made him realize he hadn’t yet turned to God with his worry. A pile of hay in a back corner of the barn had often been his place of prayer. He now dropped to his knees. “God, I’m sorry I didn’t turn to You sooner. You know how Corrie is on my mind so much, to the point I’m not even thinking straight anymore. Please, Father, help me keep my mind on You and Your goodness. Whatever is wrong with the sisters, please provide us with all we need to meet their needs.” He continued kneeling for several minutes in silence. He felt familiar peace slip into his soul. With the peace came the assurance that he needn’t hide his feelings from his heavenly Father. Trying to hide from God, in fact, was a waste of time, since God knew his heart anyway. “Father, I want to be able to court Corrie and to win her heart, but both You and I know she’s not ready for that. I couldn’t bear to watch her marry another man for anything less than love, and yet I simply can’t approach her with my feelings when she’s so fragile. If she’s the one You’ve designed for me, I trust You to bring us together in Your way and Your time. Until then, help me be patient and leave our hearts in Your care.”
The burden of past weeks eased from his heart. He had no more assurance of the future than he’d had an hour ago, but now he felt able to leave the unknown with the only One who knew how it would turn out. With lighter steps, he strode toward the house. A lonely figure sat slumped on the steps.
“Hi, Bertie,” he greeted her, playfully knocking askew the battered brown felt hat she so often wore. “Are you okay?”
A kidlike grin flitted across her face as she jammed the hat back in place. Then the somber look returned. “Corrie’s sick, Luke. Matty won’t let anyone else into Corrie’s room, and Bess won’t tell me anything. I know the baby is trying to come early, but they think I’m too young to talk about it. I’m not too young. I love her just as much as they do.” She swiped at her eyes with a fist.
Luke lowered himself to the step beside her, holding back the urge that made him want to charge up the stairs. Even if he did get past Bess, Matty would bar his access to Corrie. He simply didn’t have the right to be at her side. With a clarity that wouldn’t have come to him a day ago, he realized the sister who needed him most at the moment wasn’t the one who occupied his thoughts so frequently. He glanced sideways at Bertie, not wanting her to know he was studying her. Her reddish blond hair hung in braids always on the verge of coming loose. While the eyes of the other three sisters spoke of feminine understanding, Bertie’s told of dreams of adventure, lively imagination, and a spirit that refused to be confined by convention. He rarely knew how to relate to her, with her mysterious combination of womanly appearance but childlike enthusiasm. At this moment, however, he felt an unexpected bond.
“I know how you feel, Bertie.”
The girl’s gaze snapped to his, disbelief, then disdain written across her face. “You can’t know. She’s not your sister. You’re boss of your own ranch, not the youngest of five sisters.”
“No, Corrie isn’t my s
ister,” Luke acknowledged slowly, hoping he didn’t inadvertently reveal more than was appropriate. “But I’ve come to care a lot for the four of you. However, since I’m not a woman and not related to any of you, they won’t tell me any more than they’re telling you. That doesn’t mean God won’t let us talk to Him about her.”
Bertie played with the end of a braid, seemingly thinking about what he’d said. Then with a defiant expression, she looked into his eyes. “I don’t pray. Not since Mama and Papa died.”
Luke’s heart twisted with the hurt this child-woman couldn’t express. “Well, Bertie, I think God knows exactly what you’re feeling, and His heart hurts with you. When you’re ready to talk with Him, He’ll be ready to listen. In the meantime, you can be certain He understands what you can’t say.” After a few moments of silence between them, he rose and tiptoed through the front door.
Chapter 5
Luke’s reception inside the house was pretty much what he expected. Jim sat at the table nursing a cup of coffee. If the look in his eyes hadn’t warned Luke the situation was grim, the expression on Bess’s face would have told him everything. Bess wasn’t given to the abundance of smiles Matty usually displayed, but tonight her face looked pinched and tight. Luke knew she wouldn’t tell him much, nor would she welcome any direct comments from him.
He didn’t think she’d welcome a hug, either. He contented himself with pulling out a chair across from Jim and seating himself with the comment, “I’ve been praying, Bess.”
He couldn’t be sure, but it seemed tears might have shimmered in her eyes as she looked briefly at him. “Please don’t stop,” she said as she disappeared into the pantry.
It was just the opportunity Luke was waiting for. Having removed his boots at the door, he slipped soundlessly toward the stairs in his stocking feet. Jim’s eyes both twinkled and warned Luke the ploy wouldn’t work. Luke didn’t expect to get far, but he had to attempt it. He had no intention of trying to see Corrie. Such a thing simply wouldn’t be proper. But perhaps he could get a word with Matty. Just maybe she would tell him something—anything—to ease the knot in his gut. He sensed Bess’s presence at the bottom of the stairs, but he refused to look back. If she wasn’t going to say anything, he wasn’t going to give her an opportunity. At the top of the stairs, he turned left down a hallway. At the end of the hallway stood the doorway to what had been his parents’ room and had recently become Jim and Matty’s. Corrie’s smaller room lay just to the left. He wouldn’t knock on the closed door. If Corrie was sleeping, he didn’t want to disturb her. He just planned to wait around until Matty appeared.
Bartered Bride Romance Collection Page 28
