“Don’t usually come back too early, Cherry. We try to work through till the heat gets too much and come in about mid afternoon. We’ll eat something, and we’ll rest till the heat dies down. Go back out in the cooler part of late afternoon. Come home when the sun goes down and it gets too dark to work.” He gathered up thick leather work gloves and a straw hat. “Now, don’t wear yourself out. Not being used to this kind of life, you’d do yourself a favor to work into it gradual-like.”
Cherilyn clenched her teeth but said nothing as Cole followed his brother out the door. He looked back over his shoulder. “Oh, I told Nate to come to the house and be some help to you after he takes care of his chores in the barn. He’s a pretty good hand, for a kid, if you keep after him. He’ll be around most of the day.”
Stacking up dishes and filling the big sink with soapy water, Cherilyn muffled a half-amused and half-annoyed set of replies. “I’m not going to wear out or break down, Cole Witherspoon. You said you wanted a wife. And I want a family, even if it’s only you and your brother, nephew, and uncle. You said you think two people can build a life together on a practical basis. Let’s see if you’re right.”
She finished the dishes and was measuring flour when the screen door behind her squeaked. Nathan sauntered in. “Cole said I was to help you, Cherry. What in particular am I supposed to do?”
She turned to see resentment flushing his thin cheeks. She suspected he took offense at being stuck with “woman’s work” while the men went off to various parts of the ranch.
“Do you know how to peel apples?”
“Peel apples? Heck, I guess so. Why?”
“I’ve got meals to think about so you men will have something ready to eat. You might find apple pie to your liking. If you could handle peeling the apples for me, I believe I could promise a couple of pies for dinner.”
Nathan’s face lit up and a hint of mischief tilted his grin. “If you promised me first half of one pie, I reckon I could just about manage that.”
Leaving Nate to the apples, Cherilyn finished her pastry dough and applied herself to planning some meals in advance. If she could have something cool prepared for the men when they came in, it would give them longer to rest in the heat of the day. And what to do about dinner? She scanned the shelves for ideas.
“Say…” Nate interrupted her thoughts. “Say, Cherry, are you and Uncle Cole really gonna tie the knot? Get married, I mean? Just like that? No courtin’ and spoonin’ and what-all?”
She glanced across the room to where Nate was munching one apple and halfway peeling another. She pointed at the pile of apples that still awaited his attention. “When you need to know your uncle’s business, I guess he’ll tell you. Meanwhile, those apples aren’t peeling themselves.” He resumed peeling. She studied the roll of hills framed by the window behind him. “Would there be a reliable fishing hole somewhere on the place? One where the fish just beg to get caught?”
That sudden grin lit his face again. “A fishing hole? You bet!” The grin widened. “Do you wanna go fishin’, Cherry? You know how to catch a fish?”
Cherilyn smiled in return. “I’ve caught a few in my time. When I was teaching school, on the last day of class, we’d have a picnic and go fishing for our supper.” She tied on the big apron she’d found hanging in the pantry. “But I can’t go today. I have two pies to do, and I think somebody will be hungry pretty soon. Seems to me a nice mess of fish with cornbread and potato salad would go pretty well with apple pie. If there was someone willing to make a trip down to a special, never-fail fishing hole. After he finished peeling the apples, of course.”
“Reckon I can take care of both those chores for you, Cherry.” He applied himself to the apples for a moment. “Kinda think it would be a good thing, you and Uncle Cole tying that knot. Might make life around here more interesting. And we’d eat a whole lot better.”
****
Cherilyn put a cold lunch and a pitcher of sweet tea out for the men, spread a clean dishtowel over the meal, and slipped away for a cool shower and shampoo. With the big windows open to catch any breeze and the ceiling and attic fans churning, the house wasn’t uncomfortable in the Texas summer, but she was glad to leave the kitchen. She pin-curled her short ash-blond hair and, while it dried, took time for a little rest herself. Arabella reminded her someone else needed lunch. Cherilyn filled the empty food bowl and brushed out Arabella’s thick fur. As the brush smoothed her silken coat, the cat stretched her full, impressive length, nose to end of tail all forty-eight inches of it, and waved a plumy tail around Cherilyn’s ankles.
“Now, you’re all pretty again.” Cherilyn put the brush aside. “Pretty enough to impress our men, but I guess you’d better stay away from them till they learn to appreciate you. They’re good men, and they’re men you can count on, I think, but not much given to our girlish ways.” She bent over to scratch the tufted ears. “They’re about ready to go back to work, so I can stay away from the kitchen for a while. Let’s see if I can mend the damage your friend Reb did to my dress last night. You might sit in the living room with me till the boys come home.” Cherilyn ran a comb through her hair, buttoned a cool cotton housedress up the front, and picked up the frilly heap of pink and white from the bed. The mud stains had washed out with the soaking she’d given the dress, but she wasn’t sure how she could repair the perforations Reb’s toenails had made.
Arabella found a suitable spot for bathing on the deep sill of the front window and applied her tongue to the tufts of fur between her toes. Cherilyn spread the dress over her knees and examined the pulled fabric. It wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. A little pink embroidery over the weakened threads, copying the rosebuds that trellised down the front, might save it.
“It’s funny,” she said to the cat, who twitched one ear and appeared to be listening. “Cole can’t quite get the idea that the ‘ch’ in my name is pronounced like ‘sh’ in shoe, so when he says my name, it comes out ‘Cherry Lynn’ instead of ‘Sher-a-lyn.’ But somehow I’ve begun to like Cherry Lynn, or just Cherry. A new name for the new life ahead.” She looked again at the cat, who had lost interest and resumed grooming. “And you mind your manners, my girl, so we have a chance to make this venture work. Cole’s a handsome man, and though he’s a bit set in his ways—he and the rest of the men in the house—I believe he has a good heart and an agile mind. Men and women have begun with less than we have and made it work.” Brave words, Cherilyn knew, but they helped her look ahead with more conviction.
Bent over her needlework in concentration, she didn’t hear Cole approach, a few minutes later, until he spoke. “The chicken was real good, Cherry. And your biscuits are as tasty cold as they were this morning when they were hot. You finding everything you need? I didn’t see Nate around. He helping you some?”
“He’s been a big help. Right now he’s gone fishing. He said he knew just the place to catch them, and I thought fish would be good for dinner tonight.”
“Your suggestion, or did he just ramble off? He’s got to do his part around here. No slacking, and you tell me if he does.”
“Cole, I asked him to go. And he’s pulled his share of the load this morning.”
“Well, if you say so.” She looked up from her work to see him staring at Arabella. “That’s the biggest damn cat I ever saw. You sure she’s not a wildcat out of the woods somewhere?”
Never thought he might come in here and see her! Cherilyn put her mending aside and gathered the cat into her arms. “Maine Coon cats are huge, but they’re just big babies, sweet natured and placid. Well, they can be fierce if they feel threatened, I suppose. They’re pretty much a one-person cat and sometimes protective about the person they’re close to, but for the most part they’re mild-mannered creatures.” The big cat draped herself over Cherilyn’s shoulder as she stroked the thick red-orange fur.
Cole reached out to touch the cat. “Maine Coon, huh? Got a pelt like a coon, too.” Arabella stuck out her pink tongue and swiped his finge
r. He drew back. “Think she’d bite?”
“Not unless she thought you’d hurt her…or me. But when she licks like that, it means she likes you. Hear her purring? She’s happy.”
Cole shook his head. “Biggest damn cat in the county, I guess. Big as a bobcat.” He picked up his hat. “Just came in to say I appreciate the dinner. It was real good. The others have gone along, and I’ve got to get back out there. Rain last night washed a half dozen fence posts loose, and the fence is hanging down. We’ll all be in for supper ’long about dark-thirty. That fish sounds like a good idea.”
The afternoon was gone before Cherilyn knew it, and the men appeared for supper just after dark. Davis, generally silent and distant, offered to “put the kitchen to rights” after dinner and co-opted Nate into helping. At Cole’s invitation, Cherilyn took a tall glass of sweet tea and joined him on the porch to admire the full moon rising above the hills.
“I can’t believe your brother took over kitchen duty tonight. He’s so quiet you forget he’s around. It was thoughtful of him.”
Cole settled on the wide porch rail and leaned against the corner post. “Davis doesn’t talk much, never did, and he’s been even quieter since Sylvie died, but he’s good to have on your side. Always sees more than he appears to. I think he saw you were maybe a little wrung out from the day.”
“No, it was a good day. I won’t have any trouble sleeping, but it’s a good kind of tired.”
A little way down the hill Cherilyn could see Uncle Abe coming toward them. “Maybe your uncle would like to sit out here and have a glass of tea with us. Should I get one for him?”
Sitting back in the shadows, Cole’s expression was hidden, but his quiet chuckle rippled across the porch. “Abe will be heading up to his room as soon as he can get there. The moon’s got a red face tonight, and he’ll be wanting to get inside away from it. That’s about the most superstitious man ever lived, Cherry. Anything different, out of the ordinary, gets him going about things being ‘unnatural.’ He’ll have a string of reasons why doom and gloom are at hand.”
“And he really believes in dark omens and the portent of disaster?”
“To the depths of his heart.”
In a few moments Cherilyn witnessed for herself the old man’s conviction. He was complaining of the “blood moon” as he reached the porch. “No good comes of anything that unnatural. Don’t think I ever saw it so dadgummed red, not in my whole life. Not sure what it means, but it’s a real bad sign. And I saw an owl out today, right in the middle of the morning. Always bad to see a night creature out in the daylight. No, I’m telling you, it’s a storm warning or sign of terrible things ahead. No two ways about it.” And still voicing concern and predicting catastrophe, Abe Witherspoon made his way inside and up the stairs to his attic room.
“Folk magic and handed-down superstition.” Cherilyn respected the old man enough not to contradict him, though she hid a smile at his dire predictions.
A quiet spell fell between them as Cole kept his perch on the weathered railing, and Cherilyn rocked slowly in the creaking glider.
“You thought anymore about taking that bus back home in a couple of days?” Cole’s question took her by surprise. She’d hoped to postpone any discussion of the pending decision. “I mean, you haven’t come to a definite answer yet, have you?”
“No, not definite, exactly.”
“Reason I ask is I thought maybe you’d put off deciding about making the trip back for a few more days. Maybe see a little more of the country around here, go into town, meet some folks, especially some of the ladies, before you make plans.” He shifted as if suddenly uncomfortable. “It’s, well, it’s just that there’s a dance in town this Saturday night. A dance to raise some money for the school. You being a schoolteacher, I reckon you know how important those things are. Ladies bring a pie or cake for the auction, menfolk buy a ticket to the dance, and ever’body has a pretty good time. School gets new books or baseball equipment or something else we need without anybody being out of pocket too much. And I thought maybe you’d let me take you along to the dance. Meet some of the townsfolk, have an evening out of the kitchen. You think you might like to go? If you haven’t had enough of the Witherspoons already?”
Cherilyn stopped holding her breath. “Cole, I would be most pleased and honored to go with you to the town dance. I haven’t been to a dance in, oh, such a long time. Will your brother and Abe and Nate go, too?”
“Not Davis. He doesn’t get out in crowds if there’s any other place to be. Likely he’ll go play checkers with somebody who can give him a better game than he gets at home. Abe? Not likely. He won’t admit it, but he’s got a touch of the arthritis. Likely Nate will go into town with us. Not to the dance; he hasn’t decided girls are worth his time yet, but I’m pretty sure he and his buddy Jeff will go to the movies. There’s a John Wayne double feature, and he won’t miss that. Probably Jeff and his family will bring him home later.”
“A dance. Goodness, I’m looking forward to it already.”
“Me too.” Cole went silent again, but Cherilyn didn’t mind. The cool evening air, the chitter-chatter of night birds and crickets, and the anticipation of dressing up for a party was enough to fill her with pleasant contemplation.
“Oh, Miz Hoffmann will be coming tomorrow. She’ll talk your ear off, and gossip is her first name, but she turns out the best wash in the county.”
“She does the laundry?”
“Yeah, we go through a mess of work clothes ever’ week. No way this bunch of cowpokes is gonna do our own washing and keep things halfway done up. She’ll be up to wash and iron, and she’ll shine up the bathrooms and the floors while she’s at it. Good German hausfrau who thinks she was put on this earth to look after us poor, helpless bachelors. Nice lady.”
“But I could…”
“Don’t even want you to think of it, Cherry. You just cook and tidy up after this herd of two-legged mules. That’s more than enough.” He stopped. “Unless you’d consider sewing on about six dozen buttons that we’ve managed to pop off most of the shirts we own.”
“I can certainly do that and whatever mending you’ve got sitting around. No trouble at all.”
****
Cherilyn found the rest of the week busy but satisfying. Daytime hours filled quickly with planning, preparing, and sharing meals with the men she was coming to think of as her family. Mrs. Hoffmann came as promised, a rotund, cheerful lady who seemed fascinated with the visitor at the Witherspoon ranch. Cherilyn had no doubt by the Saturday dance word would be all over the county that Cole had a “lady friend” at the house who was making herself at home and taking over the kitchen. While the big wringer washing machine churned on the back porch, and the house filled with the smell of lye soap and blueing, Cherilyn learned the names and histories of the county families, as well as their triumphs and tragedies. She was certain whatever information she let drop while she replaced buttons and mended socks would find its way to Mrs. Hoffmann’s other clients.
Davis and Nate continued to handle the late evening dishes, leaving Cole and Cherilyn alone on the wide front porch. Abe wandered off down the path to the barn—watching out for unnatural happenings and portents of trouble, Cole said—as they sat in the starlight and listened to the night breezes. Their quiet hour together was the best time of Cherilyn’s day, and she looked forward to it through the hot afternoons. A well-informed man, Cole had strong opinions about world affairs as well as county politics. He could explain local concerns from both sides of any question and seemed pleased Cherilyn was not only interested but made an effort to inform herself about events in the area.
“I’m glad to see so many people supporting the schools here,” she told him when he’d described the recent hotly contested school board election. “The school where I taught for the last several years had to close. We just didn’t have the funds or the population to keep it open. Our school was consolidated with the schools up in the county seat. It means our y
oungsters have to take the school bus at six-thirty in the morning to get to class, even in bad weather, and our winters up there are brutal. It also means the teachers from our school are, for the most part, out of jobs.”
“That’s how you found that Help Wanted thing I put up? You were looking for another place to teach?”
“Yes, and I never expected anything to come of answering it. I wasn’t too sure it wasn’t a hoax of some kind.”
“No hoax, Cherry. And it’s real nice having you here. Someone bright and pretty to bring a little life to the house. Been pretty grim around here since Sylvie died.”
“It’s good for me, too. I haven’t had anyone who needed me, except my students, for a long time.”
A restful silence fell between them. Cole stood and appeared to be ready to end the day. “I’m looking forward to that dance tomorrow night, Cherry. Think we’re going to have a nice time. You have everything you need to make up something for the auction?”
“I believe I do. I’m going to bake my grandmother’s green apple cinnamon cake with the caramel icing. It takes most of a day to finish, but it’s worth it.” She felt the tips of her fingers, still sore from grating apples. “And I’m looking forward to the dance, too. I haven’t been dancing since I was just a little older than Nate.”
“Pretty girl like you, Cherry? I’d think you’d be out every night of the week.”
She chuckled. “Might have, if I’d been in a bigger town or the war hadn’t come along. About every man between eighteen and forty-five was either in service or working in some war plant a hundred miles away. No men left in my town above high school age or below grandfather status. And after the war, I had an invalid mother I couldn’t leave alone at night. She died last year, and I discovered I’d pretty much missed out on what little social life went on in our town. Not much came along to fill in my Saturday nights.”
“As of tomorrow we’ll change that, I’m thinking.” Cole had started to enter the house when Reb came up to his heels, looking hopeful. “On the back porch, fella. You’re not gonna start coming in the house this late in life. Go on, now.”
Help Wanted: WIFE (Santa Rita Series) Page 2
