Love Inspired Historical November 2015

by Linda Ford

  She shook her head, her encompassing gaze full of wonder. “How many acres do you own?”

  “A thousand.” At her gasp he added, “Only about one-third of that is fenced for pasture. The rest is prairie. I’ll fence more as needed.”

  “Was this your parents’ farm?”

  “Nope,” he replied, his pride evident. “I saved and bought a couple hundred acres, then bought a couple hundred more. Everything added up over time.”

  She pressed back into his chest, her head ducked against the wind. Though he’d insisted they ride as a matter of expediency, he hadn’t counted on the way she’d melt against him. Her trust in him was part of the reason he’d agreed to the hasty marriage, after all. She put on a fine air of sophistication, but it hadn’t taken long to realize she was little more than a babe in the woods. She was far too innocent for her own good. How had she got this far without someone taking advantage of her?

  “You didn’t tell me you were a land baron,” she said, her voice muffled against his jacket. “I guess there’s a lot of things we don’t know about each other.”

  “I know. I rushed things.”

  She stiffened and he immediately regretted his words.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ve got plenty of time to find out about each other.”

  “A-ages,” she replied, her words nearly incomprehensible over her chattering teeth.

  Everything had seemed more urgent in town. Here, the wind biting like a thousand teeth, her suffering apparent, he questioned his choice. He should have given her more time, no matter the weather. His men were plenty able to look out for the ranch while he was gone. He wasn’t so all-fired important they couldn’t last a few days without him. Part of keeping her safe was keeping her warm and dry.

  Except he didn’t like being away. When he was gone, even for a short time, he felt the pull of home.

  The arms wrapped around his middle tightened and Tessa nestled her head beneath his chin. “I know you think we should have waited, but I’m glad Owen found me that day at the train station. I’m glad we met.”

  “Me, too,” he said, truly meaning his words. “Me, too.”

  She murmured something unintelligible, her words garbled by her shivering, and his worry over her comfort increased. Illness was always a risk. Abby had suffered from a vague malaise even before the children were born, but the fever that had taken her life had been swift and unexpected. A sense of urgency tightened his knees against the horse’s flanks, urging the animal into a faster step. The sooner Tessa was inside, the better.

  She was still trembling when they reached the house. He looped the reins around one of the posts anchoring the porch, knowing Wheeler was near and would care for the animal. The snow had lightened but the cold hadn’t let up yet. The wind alone was brutal.

  He swung down first and reached for Tessa. He grasped her waist and she braced her hands on his shoulders. She stared at him with her wide blue eyes revealed between the silly green muffler and knit cap.

  “I look ridiculous, don’t I?” she asked.

  “You look charming. Mrs. Edwards does enjoy bright colors. I recognize her work. Or her color choice at least.”

  He set Tessa on her feet and her legs collapsed beneath her.

  Catching her against his chest, he scooped her into his arms. She was solidly built, but not heavy.

  “Oh my,” she gasped and circled her arms around his neck. “I guess I’m not used to riding. I’m far too heavy for you to carry.”

  “Do you doubt my strength?”

  “Not your strength—your endurance.”

  Wheeler had unlatched the door and Shane nudged it open with his foot. A burst of warm air ruffled his hair.

  She tugged down her muffler and grinned. “You’ve carried me over the threshold like a proper bride.”

  His chest constricted. The gesture was more personal than he’d imagined, more intimate. The stove had been lit and a pot of coffee percolated on the burner. Books and papers lay scattered over the kitchen table. A pile of clothing was visible through the open door of his bedroom. He grimaced at the mess. After leaving the children with JoBeth and Garrett, he hadn’t felt like doing much of anything, and his lack of enthusiasm showed. Dishes were piled in the dry sink and he caught sight of the muddy prints his boots had tracked.

  He set Tessa on her feet and she teetered a bit before catching her balance. “I’m getting my sea legs again.”

  Hovering near as she took a seat beside the potbellied stove, he stepped away only once she’d been safely seated. She scraped her chair nearer the fire and whipped off her gloves, warming her fingers.

  “Be careful,” he said. “Don’t warm them too quickly.”

  Her face screwed up and she groaned, folding her hands against her stomach. “It feels like pins and needles.”

  He knelt before her and forced open her fingers, chafing them between his own. “They’re like ice. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

  “It’s not bad.”

  Her violent trembling intensified and he realized this wasn’t the time for lectures. He slipped her damp coat off her shoulders and draped a blanket around her. Kneeling before her again, he reached for the laces of her boots.

  She brushed his fingers aside but her own were too stiff and clumsy for the sodden laces. He pulled them off and realized her socks were damp as well. “You’re fortunate you didn’t get frostbite.”

  Her small toe peeked out from a hole in her sock, and she curled her feet, covering the hole with her opposite foot. The gesture was guileless and endearing.

  She offered a weak smile. “At least I can feel them. My feet.”

  He carefully wrapped her chilled toes in a woolen blanket and pulled over a footstool, resting her heels on the surface with her feet toward the fire. “No closer,” he admonished.

  He crossed to his room and dug out a pair of clean wool socks from his drawer, then draped them over the warmer atop the stove.

  A knock sounded on the door and he discovered Parker on the threshold holding a steaming covered dish. “Thought you might like some leftover stew.” Parker lifted the pot. “Wheeler said, uh… He said you had a guest.”

  Parker was the second man Shane had hired after Wheeler. The old cook was stout and solid, his beard as gray as his squinted eyes. He peered around Shane with unabashed curiosity. Word of their unexpected visitor traveled fast.

  “This is my wife, Tessa. Tessa, this is Parker. He does most of the cooking around the ranch.”

  The grizzled cook advanced farther into the house. “Pleasure to meet you, miss.”

  “Mine as well,” she said. “You’ll excuse me if I don’t get up. I’m afraid the ride from town has left me a little worse for wear.”

  Parker grunted and cast a reproving glare at Shane. “It’s not fit for man nor beast out there. Not sure why anyone would want to travel in this weather.”

  “I—” Shane began.

  “I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Tessa interrupted smoothly. “I forced the matter. I was anxious to see my new home.”

  Parker flushed beneath her warm smile. “You let me know if you need anything settling in. I’m just across the way.”

  “Did Wheeler take care of Scout?” Shane asked. He couldn’t have anything happening to Owen’s favorite horse.

  “The animals are tucked away in the barn already.”

  “Excellent.”

  Clearly they’d exhausted their pleasantries, yet Parker lingered in the cozy heat of the house. “I can see the wagon just over the rise. They’ll be here soon. Wheeler says you brought the children. The place isn’t the same without them younglings running underfoot.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  Parker remained just inside the door, appearing as though his feet had sprouted roots and anchored him to the floor. “Do you need anything else?”

  “We’ll be fine.” Shane steered him toward the door. “I’ll explain everything to the boys later.” H
e spoke low enough that only Parker could hear.

  The man grinned. “I can’t decide whether we should send you into town more or less often.”

  “Some discretion is in order.”

  “All right, all right. Don’t get your back up. You better take care of your missus, there. She looks a mite chilled.”

  “As soon as you finally leave, I’ll see to Tessa. Except you don’t seem to be able to leave, do you? Did someone nail your feet to the floor when neither of us was looking?” Shane muttered, growing more exasperated by the minute.

  “Right, boss.”

  After firmly shutting the door behind Parker, Shane crossed back over to Tessa. She’d wrapped her arms around her body and was rocking back and forth in an effort to chafe some heat into her arms. He took the socks from the warmer on the stove and knelt before her.

  As he pulled back the wool blanket, she gasped in protest. He slipped the warmed wool socks over her feet and her expression instantly transformed. She went from ragged annoyance into pure bliss in the space of a heartbeat.

  “Oh my,” she breathed out in a sigh. “That is absolutely the most wonderful thing I’ve ever felt. I had no idea I could be that miserable and cold.”

  Shane ducked his head. Not even three hours married and he’d nearly frozen his wife. Things were not starting off well at all.

  *

  Things were not starting off well at all. Tessa woke before the children the following morning and soon realized Shane was gone.

  Not just gone. Most of his belongings were gone as well and all the drawers in the bureau were empty. The previous evening, she’d fallen asleep in the enormous bed while reading Alyce and Owen a bedtime story. This morning they were safely tucked in their cribs in the adjoining room, the covers neatly tucked over their shoulders.

  An ignominious start to any marriage. Shane had promised her space while they got to know each other, and while she hadn’t been entirely certain of the living and sleeping arrangements, she hadn’t expected completely separate dwellings. Near as she could figure, he must be staying in the bunkhouse with the men. Where else would he be?

  She padded into the kitchen and took stock of her dwellings. This was a new chance for a first impression, and she was making the most of the opportunity.

  The house wasn’t terribly large, featuring a long main room with a kitchen on one end and a living area at the other with a table and chairs for eating in the middle. Having a kitchen open to the rest of the house left her feeling oddly exposed, but she wasn’t exactly in a position to complain. Off the main living area, two bedrooms flanked the west side of the space with a washroom in the middle.

  The pantry was well stocked, and the crates filled with JoBeth’s purchases were stacked along the wall. Her trunk was there as well, and a blush crept up her neck. Shane must have seen it in the window of the haberdashery. Though embarrassed, she appreciated the gesture.

  Like a child on Christmas morning, she carefully unwrapped each item and marveled at the selection. Jo had even thrown in two calico dresses, a sturdy pair of boots and several pairs of wool socks. Tessa savored the memory of her warmed socks from the previous evening. Stove-warmed socks were her new favorite thing.

  After everything was unpacked and neatly arranged, she opened Bartleby’s Book of Household Management and discovered a recipe for biscuits. She’d seen the cooks at the Harvey House rolling out the dough plenty of times, and with only a few wrong turns, she soon had a fine batch of biscuits prepared.

  Her cooking skills were adequate and she relished the time for improving them. She’d always found baking an enjoyable activity. Since the cooks at Harvey’s were always complaining that stoves could be temperamental, she carefully monitored the progress of her first batch until they’d achieved a perfect golden brown. By the time Owen and Alyce called from their room, she had six dozen biscuits cooling on every available surface.

  Frowning at the surplus, she penciled a note into the margin of the book. Recipe makes 72 biscuits. Considering cutting recipe by ½ or ¼.

  In the following hours, she had Alyce and Owen fed and dressed, the coffee percolated and the kitchen back in order. In all that time, Shane had yet to make an appearance. While she accepted full responsibility for falling asleep before they’d spoken of their plans for the day, she’d expected he’d at least check in on her and the children.

  Planting her hands on her hips, Tessa pivoted. “How about we go exploring?”

  Owen clapped his hands. “Ga. Scout.”

  “Would you like to see Scout?”

  “Ga.”

  “Excellent.”

  Soon she had the two children bundled into coats, gloves, hats and scarves. Sweating, Tessa sat back on her heels and swiped the moisture from her forehead. She’d never considered the difficulties of pressing tiny feet into tiny boots and tying wool hats beneath dimpled chins.

  The moment she had them both prepared, Owen tore off his hat. “Hot.”

  “No, no,” Tessa admonished. “I’ll be ready in an instant.”

  By the time she’d donned her own hat, gloves and coat, the twins had shed theirs. With tears of frustration burning behind her eyes, she quickly accomplished the task once more. Owen wailed and tugged at the knot she’d tied in his hat strings, and she quickly opened the door.

  “There.” She pointed. “Why don’t you wait on the porch?”

  Owen’s tears instantly dried and he toddled outside, Alyce close on his heels. Sweat trickled down Tessa’s back from her exertions, and her skin itched. She scrounged a burlap sack and had it filled with biscuits in record time, the door open and the cabin filling with cold air. Her attention darted back and forth between the children as she clumsily finished her task.

  Once she’d stepped outside and closed the door behind her, the sheen of moisture covering her instantly chilled.

  “Really,” she said in Owen’s direction. “There simply must be a better or more efficient way of doing things.”

  Owen only pointed toward the red barn. “Ga. Scout.”

  Hoisting her bag into the air, she gestured in the opposite direction. “First we’re delivering these to the bunkhouse, and then we’ll visit Scout.”

  Stubbornly shaking his head, Owen pointed. “Scout.”

  “Bunkhouse.”

  Owen shook his head.

  Tessa shrugged. “Then I guess we can’t visit Scout after all. Back inside, everyone.”

  This time Alyce burst into tears. Tessa scrubbed one hand down her face, smothering a sound of frustration. Children were proving much more difficult than she’d expected.

  She felt a tug on her sleeve and glanced down. Owen stared up at her. He pointed toward the bunkhouse. “There. Ga there.”

  The battle of wills had been struck. Alyce hiccuped and ceased her tears. Tessa warily eyed Owen. She might have won this skirmish, but she anticipated resistance at every turn. It appeared Owen enjoyed testing his limits with her. She’d keep a close eye on that one.

  “That’s better,” she said brightly. “Off we go.”

  Feeling both excited and apprehensive, she set off down the shallow stairs. The ranch featured the main house, a bunkhouse that was quite a bit larger, an enormous red barn and another barn that had been painted an indistinguishable shade of mud brown. Trees dotted the area and a lengthy line of enormous evergreens had been planted as a windbreak. In the distance, fenced pastureland stretched as far as the eye could see. She spotted horses, cattle and even what looked to be a sheep.

  The men had already cleared paths leading to all the buildings. Fascinated by the fresh blanket of snow, the twins dutifully trailed behind her, occasionally sticking their mittened fingers into a drift and licking off the snow.

  “Remember, only clean snow,” she admonished, brushing a patch of grayed flakes from Owen’s mitten.

  Once she reached the bunkhouse door, she rapped sharply. A moment later Finch appeared.

  “Mrs. McCoy,” he said, blinking hi
s good eye rapidly. “Shane isn’t here. He’s in the barn.”

  A noisy burst of activity sounded from inside and several figures darted past. A distinct mixture of scents wafted through the door. She recognized tobacco, bacon and coffee, all blended together into something that undeniably declared the bunkhouse a male-only domain.

  She lifted her burlap sack. “I’m actually here to see you.”

  Finch silently opened and closed his mouth a few times, then said, “Well, uh, come in. Don’t stand out there in the cold.”

  Tessa and the twins shuffled inside. One of the men stood at attention as though waiting for an inspection. Wheeler straightened his collar while Red hopped on one stockinged foot, clumsily tugging his boot onto the opposite limb.

  Finch cleared his throat. “You met the boys last evening. You remember Red, Wheeler and Parker.”

  Only Parker appeared at ease. He sat before an enormous tin washtub filled with a pile of peeled potatoes, his shirtsleeves rolled up while he scraped the peel from yet another. As she nodded a greeting, she caught Finch shoving playing cards beneath his pillow out of the corner of her eye.

  Alyce plucked something from the floor and lifted it to her mouth.

  Wheeler lunged and pried the object from her fingers. “You don’t want to eat anything off this floor, little missy.” He stuffed the offending object into his pocket. “You be careful, Mrs. McCoy. They’ll give you a run for your money at that age.”

  “Everything to the mouth.” Red planted his hands on his hips. “That’s what my mother always used to say about my little brothers. Everything to the mouth.”

  “I’m learning that,” Tessa said with a roll of her eyes. “I can’t thank you enough for taking care of the children and unloading the wagon.”

  Owen reached for Parker’s sidearm and the man scooted away. “No, no, little partner. Remember, we talked about that.”

  Alyce approached Wheeler and reached out her chubby arms. He held up his hands and took a step back, casting a wary glance in Tessa’s direction. The move had her wondering about his past. Had his family been touched by slavery? Considering his age, older than Shane, but younger than Parker, the idea wasn’t that unlikely. Clearly the man was uncertain of her welcome, and Tessa’s heart ached for the past. Over twenty years since the war, and he was still guarded around newcomers. Not that she blamed him.