Leaning on the pulpit, he stared out at the crowd. “I know it’s hard for us water-deprived Texans to understand this talk about rushes. And I can’t begin to explain what a flag is, except for the kind that waves in the air.” Soft chuckles echoed off the crowd. “But we all understand what it means for a crop to wither in the field for lack of water—and that’s what I think this verse is referring to.
“Man without God is like a field of wheat, cotton, or corn without rain. We dry up. Wither. We’re not good for anything. Man needs God like our bodies need blood. Like our bodies need water—only in a worse way. Life here on earth is temporary, shorter for some than others. We need to make our lives count for something, people.”
Brooks stared out the window at the leaves flapping in the wind. He thought of the past ten years—wasted years he’d spent drifting from town to town, job to job. Not accomplishing anything lasting. Why had God allowed him to live when he’d wasted the life he’d been given? Was that why God had given him a second chance? So that he could change and be a contributor to society?
“Don’t leave here without making things right with God, folks. Don’t leave here without asking forgiveness for your sins and asking Jesus to save you.”
Heads bowed as Pastor Griffith prayed. Thoughts swirled through Brooks’s head and emotions spun in his gut. The man had given him plenty to think about, but he wasn’t ready to stand and walk down the aisle. The moment Pastor Griffith said, “Amen,” Jess slid to the far side of the bench and all but ran for the exit, pulling a smile to Brooks’s lips. Nate followed after him, albeit a bit more slowly. Jess reminded him of himself, back when he was a boy at church. He couldn’t wait to get outside after the service and cozy up to the girls who had attended with their families.
Keri looked up at him and smiled, not seeming nearly as nervous as she had been, and with her at his side, he had no inclinations to gawk at the other women. None could come close to being as pretty and challenging as she. He stood and offered his hand, helping her up. “Ready to head home? Or did you want to visit?”
She glanced around the church, then shrugged. He suspected she’d like to mingle but was afraid—for some reason unbeknown to him. Maybe it was because she’d been gone so long and didn’t know many folks. Or maybe it was the awkwardness of their situation. He hadn’t stopped to think how his owning the ranch and allowing Keri to stay there would look to others.
A big man paused in the aisle, allowing them to exit the row, and they filed outside. Keri hobbled toward the buggy, but Brooks paused to allow a trio of giggling young ladies to pass in front of him. The last to pass, a pretty thing in a purple dress with a huge bow on the back of her head, glanced up at him and batted her lashes. Her cheeks turned red and she rushed to catch her friends. Pretty, to be sure, but far too young for him to take a second glance. He shook his head and angled for the buggy, where Keri waited. Nate and Jess must have already left for home, since their horses were gone.
“Keri?” A homely woman in her early twenties, Brooks guessed, hustled their way. “Is that really you?”
Turning, Keri smiled. “Yes, Lulu, it’s me.”
The two hugged, and Keri became more animated than Brooks had ever seen her.
“How have you been? What’s happened since your last letter?” Keri asked as she held the woman’s hands.
“I’m wonderful.” The woman’s hazel eyes turned toward Brooks, red painted her pale cheeks, and she leaned toward Keri. “I’m expecting our first child.”
Keri squealed and bounced then wrapped her arms around Lulu. “I’m so happy for you and Miles.” She glanced over her shoulder at him, and then leaned close to Lulu’s ear. “When is the happy occasion expected?”
That was it. Feminine talk was not for him. Brooks walked to the far side of the buggy and checked the harness, not that it needed checking. He untied the horse and readied things for the trip home. As he walked back around the buggy, a man strode in his direction, his gaze honed in on the women. Mr. Lulu, he presumed.
“So, who is this?” Lulu wagged her eyebrows at Brooks, and he responded with a grin, knowing what she was thinking and knowing she was wrong. The man, shorter than Brooks by several inches, but stout and hardy, caught his gaze.
Keri cleared her throat. “Um … this is Mr. Morgan.”
“And?” Lulu lifted her brows, her eyes wide.
Keri cast a quick, beseeching glance his way. He grinned and held out his hand to the man. “Brooks Morgan.”
“Miles Dunn. We own a farm a few miles south of Raven Creek.”
“A pleasure to meet you both.”
Keri stepped in between Brooks and Miles. “Yes, and you both must come over and have dinner sometime.”
“I’d love that.” Lulu nodded but cast another curious glance at Brooks. “We have so much news to catch up on.”
Miles tugged on his wife’s elbow. “C’mon, darling. Your folks are waiting.”
Keri hugged her friend again, then hurried to the buggy, as if not having the strength to face anyone else. Brooks lifted her up and then took his seat.
“Whew, that was a close call.”
He cast a sideways glance at her as he smacked the reins across the horse’s back. “What was?”
She elbowed him. “You know. They nearly found out that you own the ranch and that I still live there.”
“And what happens when they come for a visit? Don’t you think they’ll find out then?”
“Oh, dear.” Keri twisted her hands together. “What will we tell them?”
He shrugged. “How about the truth?”
“But you heard Carl.”
He huffed out a breath. “Carl said that because he was upset. He sees me as competition and is jealous that I’m around you all the time.”
Keri stiffened. “Why, that’s absurd.” She lifted her index finger in the air. “Number one—I have no interest in Carl Peters as a beau. Never have but can’t seem to get the idea through his stubborn head. Number two—there’s nothing between us that he has to be jealous about.”
Brooks’s heart took wing at her first declaration, but plummeted to the ground like a shot bird after the second. She had no reason to like him, not after he’d won her family home away from her, but he’d thought things were leveling out between the two of them. He wasn’t used to women not liking him, but he should have known better than to allow himself to be attracted to Keri Langston. He’d promised to take care of her.
And that’s what he would do.
But he wouldn’t allow any false hopes that there could be more between them.
Brooks dumped another load of split logs into the wood box in the kitchen and dusted off his hands.
“Thank you.” Keri glanced over her shoulder from where she stood in front of the stove. “Dinner is about ready.”
“Sure smells good.”
“We’ll see. Can you holler at Nate and Jess?”
She faced the stove again, and Brooks took a moment to study her. The dress she’d looked so pretty in earlier had already been cast aside in favor of tight trousers, which left no course for a man’s imagination. A blue calico shirt with tiny white-and-yellow flowers was loosely tucked into her waistband, and a long braid hung down her back instead of the fancy piling she’d worn to church. It was a shame she wasn’t interested in him in the least bit, because he found her more fascinating than any woman he had met in a long while.
Footsteps clomped on the back porch, and the door banged into his back. Brooks jumped and moved out of the way.
“What are you doing?” Jess fussed.
“Just thinking is all.”
“Well, can you go think somewhere that ain’t in the way?”
Brooks grinned and slipped out the door, nodding at Nate as he passed by on his way to the well. Both men had disappeared after the church service. Brooks suspected they’d gone to the bunkhouse to play a game of cards on their day off. He blew out a sigh. Things were getting better between him a
nd his workhands, but he still wished they’d be more friendly. He washed off his hands and his face and shook off the water.
Pastor Griffith’s sermon had rattled him. It was almost as if the man was preaching to him—that part about forgetting God. That’s pretty much what he’d done the past ten years. And he’d tried to forget the family who had loved him.
He’d been a stubborn, rebellious youth who thought he knew best. Thought he had it harder than others.
He’d been wrong, but he was also too stubborn to admit it and to return home.
Blowing out a sigh, he headed back to the house. How did a man go about reconnecting with a lost family and a God he’d never really known?
The door creaked as he entered the kitchen.
“I’m just sayin’. Don’t know why we had to get up early and sit through that boring church preachin’ on our only day off. Thought we was goin’ there to call out Dengler. He weren’t even there.” Jess poured some cream into his coffee. “It was just a waste of time, if you ask me.”
Nate took the plate of biscuits Keri handed him and glared at Jess. “Nobody asked you, so stop your bellyachin’.”
Shaking his head, Brooks pulled out Keri’s chair and waited for her to take her seat. She limped toward him, carrying a large bowl of yellow, creamy stuff. He took it from her and set it on the table. “You need to sit. Is there anything else that needs to be put on the table?”
“Just the greens, but I can—”
Brooks took her by the shoulders. “I’ll fetch ’em. You sit.”
She gave him a grateful smile and dropped into her chair. He could have kicked himself for not thinking about her foot still hurting. This was the first day she’d cooked since her injury, and that was after attending church and wearing those dressy shoes that were bound to pinch any woman’s feet.
He set the greens on the table and took his seat. Jess reached for the biscuits, and Brooks cleared his throat. Three sets of eyes turned toward him, and Jess pulled his arm back. “Would y’all mind if we asked God’s blessing on our meal?”
Jess shook his head. “First you wrangle us into goin’ to church and now you want to pray. What’s next? Baptizing in the crik?” He chuckled and elbowed Nate. “I’d like to see that, since there ain’t no water in the crik, lessn’ you count Raven Crik, and we all know that black water ain’t no good.”
Nate bumped Jess back. “That’s enough from you.” He turned his gaze on Brooks. “I think askin’ the Almighty’s blessing couldn’t hurt nothin’.”
Brooks nodded and bowed his head, but his heart raced like he’d just run all the way to church. He searched his mind for a prayer from his past. “Heavenly Father, we … uh … thank You for this fine meal and … uh … ask that You bless the hands that fixed it.” He glanced up but each face was still turned downward.
Nate peeked out one eye. “You’re s’posed to say Amen when you get done, aren’t you?”
Brooks shrugged and curled up his lips. “Amen, I reckon.”
“I’m gonna have to start wearing one of them halos instead of a hat if’n I get any more religion.” Jess reached for the plate and snagged two of the fluffy biscuits.
“What’s that yellow stuff in the bowl?” Nate asked, pointing his knife toward it.
“Creamed chicken. I thought it would taste good layered over the biscuits.” Keri cut a biscuit in half, then spread butter on both sides and spooned some of the creamy sauce over it.
Brooks’s mouth watered at the delicious aroma filling the room. He ladled some greens on his plate and passed the bowl to Keri, along with a smile. She took the bowl and shook her head, her lips dancing at the corners.
“I’m sure glad you learned to cook at that school, Missy.” Nate took a big bite of chicken and biscuits and closed his eyes. “I thought Will was dumb as the backside—uh, well …” A deep red stained his ears. “Sorry, Missy. Been around this lug-head for too long.” He jerked his thumb toward Jess. “Anyway, I thought Will was just plumb loco for sending you away to that school, but I’m sure glad you learned to cook.”
“I managed to miss the last two years of my uncle’s life.”
Spoons halted in midair.
“Uh … I’m sorry ’bout that, but Will had his reasons for sending you away.” Nate ducked his head and tucked into his meal.
“No, I apologize. It’s not your fault Uncle Will sent me to school. Maybe if I’d acted more ladylike, he would have let me stay.” Keri pushed her food around on her plate.
Brooks searched for a more cheerful topic. “What all do we need to do this comin’ week?”
“Horses need shoein’,” Jess mumbled around his food.
“Cattle need to be moved to the north pasture,” Nate said.
“I still need to go to town to get my trunk, not that there’s much in it I need. Just a bunch of fancy dresses.”
Brooks’s mind took off on a trail that it shouldn’t—thinking how pretty Keri must have looked in all those dresses. He imagined a rainbow of colors: blue, green, purple, pink, and in each one, she was prettier. “I can—” He cleared his throat then took a drink of the lukewarm coffee. “I can ride into town and fetch it. I want to talk to Doc and Marshal Lane anyhow.”
“I’ll go with you.” Keri pierced him with a look that told him arguing would be a waste of time. “We’re running low on supplies, and I can get them then.”
“Maybe we should all go,” Nate said. “I don’t much like the idea of the two of you alone on the road, not after what Dengler’s men did.”
Brooks shook his head. “Someone needs to stay here. We’re already spread thin, and I don’t want to leave the ranch unattended.”
“Just be sure your rifle’s loaded.” Jess snagged the last biscuit.
The man sure could eat for someone so skinny. Biting back a grin, Brooks ate the last of his meal, enjoying each bite. The fare was simple but tasty and satisfying.
Keri pushed back in her chair, and Brooks reached out, grabbing her wrist. “Where do you think you’re going?
She blinked, surprise etched in each pretty feature of her face. “Just to get the pie. You do want pie, don’t you?”
He nodded. “I do, but you stay seated and finish your food. I can get it.”
“But—”
He tweaked her nose, gaining a chuckle from Jess. “No buts, Missy.”
She scowled, and he read her mind, but she scooted forward and picked up her spoon.
Grinning, Brooks took the pie off the stove and set it on the counter then divided it into four equal slices. Keri wouldn’t eat but half of hers, and then she’d save the rest for a midafternoon snack if she got hungry. She sure was a handful. He could well understand Will feeling inadequate to raise and educate such a willful female. Why, it wouldn’t be much different from him raising a girl. Even though he’d had an older sister, he wouldn’t know where to start. His admiration for his old friend grew another notch.
After he served everyone and sat back down, talk returned to the work they needed to accomplish this coming week, but the idea of traveling all the way to town with just Keri along didn’t stray far from his thoughts.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Brooks stared at the tiny buildings as they drew near Shoofly. The day was warm with just enough clouds overhead to keep things from getting too hot. The grass on both sides of the trail swished in the light breeze, but his enjoyable trip to town sure hadn’t gone as expected. Keri had climbed aboard the buckboard this morning and promptly opened a book and hadn’t talked to him except for when they’d taken a short break.
She was expecting to buy a wagonload of supplies, and he didn’t have a dime to his name. Too bad all his money had gotten stolen. He sure could have used it.
Heaving a sigh, he pulled the wagon off to the side of the road. Keri looked up from her book, lifted the brim of her hat, and squinted. “Why are we stopping here?”
Brooks fiddled with the reins, straightening them and then twisting them again
. He’d never needed much money and mainly survived by his wits and muscle. Maybe he wasn’t cut out to be a rancher. Wasn’t that one of the reasons he’d left home?
“Is something wrong?”
He sighed again and turned in the seat. “I know you had your heart set on buying supplies, but the truth is, I don’t have money for that.”
She stared at him for a moment, then smiled and waved one hand in the air. “Is that all? We always charge them to the ranch account.”
Brooks’s hopes lifted for a moment, then sank. “But that was in your uncle’s name. I don’t have an account, and the store owner isn’t about to open one up for someone he hardly knows.”
Keri wrinkled her brow and blinked several times. “But it’s still the ranch account. Why should that change just because the owner did?”
He wanted to think like she did, but obviously she wasn’t talented in the business end of the ranch. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to dash all her hopes. “I reckon we can go talk to the man and see what he says.”
She gazed up, uncertainty worrying her pretty eyes. “What if they say no? What will we do? I don’t know how much longer we can get by on what we have left.”
He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Things will work out. There’s some beans, flour, and a few canned goods in the bunkhouse, leftover from when Nate and Jess had to fend for themselves. I can always hunt meat for us. We won’t starve, but I’d sure miss those pies of yours if we have to go without sugar.”
She smiled. “And we’ve got to have coffee, or you’ll never get those cowboys of ours out of bed each morning.”
Cowboys of ours. Brooks clucked to the horses pulling the buckboard with a smile on his face and in his heart. It was just a slip of the tongue on her part, he knew that, but just having her associate the two of them together had made his day.
“Let’s get my trunk first, and then we can see how much space is left. I hope there’s someone to help lift it onto the buckboard.”
End of the Trail Page 9
