Hill Country Courtship (Brides of Simpson Creek Book 8)

by Laurie Kingery

  The thought made her chuckle out loud. Far from wanting to be a full-time cook and housekeeper, Maude couldn’t wait for the older woman to return to the kitchen and cut her workload in half. Because of the time she’d spent cooking the ranch house’s meals, she’d had only a scattering of moments to spend with Hannah. By the time she finished with her cooking duties in the evening, she was too tired to do more than kiss the baby good-night before Juana laid Hannah in her cradle.

  Just stopping to think about Hannah made her smile, though. The child was growing like the proverbial weed—before long they’d have to sew her some more clothing. The next thing they knew, she’d be crawling, then walking...

  The knock at the front door startled her so badly she nearly dropped her tray full of dishes. Who could be calling? They weren’t expecting Dr. Walker today. And with the ranch so far from the nearest neighbor, it was unlikely anyone would just drop by without a very good reason.

  She saw a dark-coated, chestnut-haired figure through the window in the door, but the glass was too wavy to identify who it was. Setting the tray down on the landing, she ran the rest of the way, hoping the knocking hadn’t awakened Mrs. MacLaren.

  It was Reverend Gil, the preacher from the Simpson Creek Church.

  “Come in, come in, reverend!” she said as she pulled the door open. “What a nice surprise. There... Nothing’s wrong back in town, is there?” she asked, after a sudden thought struck her that he might be here to summon her back to Simpson Creek for some emergency. “Is Mrs. Meyer all right?”

  “Mrs. Meyer is right as rain,” Gil Chadwick assured her. “Everyone said to tell you they missed you. Your friend Ella’s wedding went off without a hitch, and she and Nate Bohannan are off on their wedding trip now.”

  Being reminded of the wedding she’d had to miss caused a twinge of pain, but she covered her inward wince with a cheerful smile. “Yes, I was sorry not to be able to attend.”

  “I spoke with Dr. Walker yesterday,” Gil Chadwick went on, “and he told me about the housekeeper’s accident, and all the burdens you’ve had to carry since then. I figured you had your hands full, so I thought I’d come out to check on you, see if you were doing all right.”

  “Why don’t you have a seat in the parlor, Reverend, and I’ll bring you a cup of coffee? That’s a sharp wind out there today.”

  “That’s a fact,” the preacher agreed, and then added, “Coffee would be most welcome. It’s nearly Thanksgiving, so I suppose we should expect the cold.”

  When she pushed open the door to the parlor, though, she found Jonas sitting at his desk, poring over his ledger. She blinked, not having known he was there. He’d come in for the noontime meal, but she’d assumed he’d gone back out to the corral afterward, where he had been working with a young gelding all morning long. Apparently he had decided the accounts needed his attention more than the animals this afternoon.

  Jonas looked up from his ledger in surprise, but Maude didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed when he noticed the preacher.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. MacLaren,” she said quickly, “I didn’t know you were in here or I wouldn’t have disturbed you. Reverend Gil Chadwick’s come to call—would you rather we sit in the kitchen? I was going to get him some coffee.”

  He rose. “There’s no need to take him elsewhere—what I’m doing can wait. I wouldn’t mind a cup of your coffee, Miss Maude. Reverend Chadwick, I’m Jonas MacLaren.” He held out his hand and the preacher clasped it with a friendly smile. A smile that was not returned by his host.

  “Welcome,” Jonas said, in a voice that fully contradicted the word. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “No, no, I just thought I’d come out to check on Miss Maude,” the young preacher told him. “And your housekeeper and your mother, too, if they’re able to have visitors. Dr. Walker told me about your housekeeper getting burned, so I knew Miss Maude and Mrs. Juana would be keeping very busy. I came to see if there’s anything we could do to help. My wife’s ready to pack her valise and move out here as long as you need her assistance if you’re feeling overburdened, Miss Maude.”

  “Oh, that’s so nice of her to offer,” Maude said. “But no, Senora Morales is healing nicely and is allowed to resume her duties in a couple of days, so I think we’ll be all right until then. Excuse me, gentlemen, I’ll just be a minute getting the coffee.”

  Should she rejoin them when she brought the coffee? Reverend Gil was here to see her, not Jonas, but perhaps this was a good opportunity for him to get to know the preacher and perhaps see how appealing his faith was. And in any case, she had very little time to spare from her many tasks. She knew Jonas had very little regard for churchgoing in general, and wondered if that same disinterest extended to preachers, as well. Certainly he had not seemed well pleased when she had walked in with the preacher. But after Gil had explained the purpose of his visit, Jonas had seemed to relax. Maybe he had feared that the minister had come to chastise him for not attending Sunday services. That might explain his relief at learning the true reason the reverend had come calling.

  Still pondering Jonas’s behavior, she set two china cups on a tray, poured coffee from the pot on the stove, poured a little milk into a small pitcher and added the sugar bowl to the tray, then went back down the hall toward the parlor.

  “Maude Harkey works harder than any three women,” she heard Jonas say as she drew near. “She’s taken on an amazing load, and all without a word of complaint. I’m not sure how we ever got along without her. And everything she does, she does well. Her cooking is delicious—but don’t tell Senora Morales I said that, will you?”

  Maude froze just outside the door, her face aflame. Could she have possibly heard him correctly? He’d given little indication that he thought so highly of her.

  “Miss Maude’s always been a good woman,” Reverend Gil said then. “I’ve known her for years, ever since my father came here to be the minister before me. As the doctor’s daughter and the minister’s son—for my father was the pastor of Simpson Creek back then—our paths often crossed. I’m sorry to say I was away at seminary when her papa was killed by the Indians a few years ago and could not offer her any help or comfort during that difficult time, but I’ve seen her shoulder her responsibilities and make a new life for herself since then. You’re lucky to have her here.”

  “Don’t I know it,” MacLaren agreed. “My mother thinks she hung the moon, and Senora Morales is convinced Maude saved her life, running after her and tackling her like she did so she could beat the fire out. It’s a wonder she wasn’t burned herself, but she didn’t hesitate to place herself in harm’s way.”

  The constant stream of compliments was making her heart race and her face flush. Maude waited until she felt her pulse slow to a more normal pace and the men began to speak of other things before taking the coffee in. Fearing her face would still betray what she had overheard, she avoided looking at Jonas. She didn’t want him to realize that she’d been eavesdropping. And most of all, she didn’t want him to guess just how much those words of praise meant to her.

  * * *

  Jonas watched Maude’s graceful movements as she poured the coffee and offered each man a cup. How did a small-town girl, from what was still a very wild and sometimes lawless part of the United States, come to possess the poise of a duchess? She excused herself as soon as she had served both men. He found himself wishing she would stay. But he could not think of a pretext to ask her to do so and regretfully allowed her to excuse herself.

  As he focused his attention on the man in front of him, he at least had the comfort of feeling something other than the suspicious fury that had sprung up instantly when Maude had entered his parlor with a caller.

  Gil Chadwick was young for his pastoral responsibilities, and not a bad-looking fellow. Until he’d mentioned a wife, Jonas had been sure the preacher had come here out of ro
mantic interest in Maude. His hands had clenched into fists at his sides at the thought of it. The nerve of the man, to come sniffing around right under Jonas’s nose! So Chadwick had missed Maude being in town, close at hand, and traipsed clear out to Five Mile Hill Ranch to see her?

  Chadwick’s casual mention of his wife—who was apparently a friend of Maude’s—had thrown water on the flame of Jonas’s sparking ire. He found himself feeling downright cordial to the young parson. But now that the anger had cleared from his mind, the vehemence of his initial reaction made him wary. What difference should it make to him whether Chadwick was a would-be suitor of Maude’s or not?

  He’d told Maude the day he met her that the last thing he was looking for was a wife. He’d learned his lesson with Annabella, hadn’t he, that females were not to be trusted?

  Then why had he felt a completely unreasonable surge of jealousy and possessiveness when he’d thought the young preacher was sweet on Maude?

  He realized the preacher had made a comment and seemed to be waiting for some response from him. “Pardon me, reverend. You were saying—?”

  Gil Chadwick smiled, not at all perturbed that his host’s attention had wandered. “I was saying, we’ve been missing Miss Maude’s fine singing on Sunday mornings,” he said. “She has a beautiful soprano voice. She’s graced us with solos a time or two. Have you heard her sing?”

  Jonas had to admit that he had not. Now he couldn’t imagine anything he wanted to experience more. Would she sing for him, if he asked it of her? Did she sing to put the wee bairn to sleep?

  It was a moment or two before he realized the implied question in the preacher’s praise of Maude’s voice. “Aye, well, I’m sorry she’s so far from the church now—the distance makes attending impractical. Perhaps some Sunday, when the weather is cooperative, she can come back for a visit. And I don’t suppose she’ll be here forever...”

  But he couldn’t imagine her not living here always.

  “I’m sure she’d be welcome to stay overnight with a family in town...” the preacher murmured. “Or at the boardinghouse. So far, Mrs. Meyer hasn’t rented Miss Maude’s old room.”

  Jonas wasn’t interested in sharing Maude with the town. What if she found she missed it so much that she didn’t want to return to Five Mile Hill Ranch? What if there was some young swain who realized what a prize she was and took advantage of her brief return to strengthen their relationship or declare his intentions? She had come to the ranch to have a home for Hannah, but a husband could give her and the bairn a proper home easily enough. She hadn’t mentioned anyone, and she was part of that spinsters’ group looking for spouses, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone interested in her, did it?

  “We’ll have to see,” he said vaguely. “Right now, my mother needs her at her side. It would not suit her at all to have Miss Maude absent for most of Saturday and Sunday. And there’s the bairn to be tended. The servants conduct their own service on Sundays, which Miss Maude has attended, so you needn’t worry she’ll become a heathen while she’s here.”

  Did he sound defensive? Jonas wondered. Perhaps he was rather jumping to conclusions. And, indeed, perhaps the reverend’s question had been perfectly innocent. The preacher was just worried about Maude because she was one of his flock, a single female living far from her home, working for a man she’d barely known before coming to live at his ranch. It was admirable in a way, knowing someone cared about Maude like that, wasn’t it? Made him feel almost charitable toward the man for valuing Maude in a way she clearly merited.

  “Of course, of course,” Chadwick said, looking not the least offended by Jonas’s verbal jab. “Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time, Mr. MacLaren. It was good to meet you at last. Perhaps you could call Miss Maude, and she can take me up to see your housekeeper and your mother so I could pay my respects?”

  The two men shook hands. Then Jonas called Maude and watched her climb the stairs with the young reverend. He went back to the ledger he had been working on, but he found the figures before him blurred together like a black sea of ink.

  It was time to admit to himself that he was starting to care for the winsome red-haired Maude, that he wanted her to play a larger role in his life than just a caretaker for his mother.

  The question was, was he ready to act on his feelings? Could he put his heart at risk yet again? The last time had been so disastrous that it had just about killed him. He had truly thought he was done with love and romance for good—and had relished the knowledge. If he never opened his heart to another woman, then he would not have to fear it getting trampled again.

  Should he hold strong to that resolution? Perhaps he should just enjoy the time that she was here and appreciate what she was doing to make his mother’s life more pleasant, knowing that someday she would leave and return to her life back in Simpson Creek. He found he could not bear that idea.

  * * *

  Maude took Reverend Gil to visit Coira first, knowing Jonas’s mother was more likely to be awake and would see it as her right that a visitor would pay his respects to her first.

  “So you’re the minister o’ th’ kirk in Simpson Creek?” Coira asked, after Maude had gone in first and made sure the older woman was presentable for a visitor. Now, seated in a rocking chair, her hair neatly combed and tucked under a lace cap, and smelling of lavender water, she blinked and smiled delightedly at her visitor. “That is to say, the church, no’ the kirk. I am a Scottish lady born and bred, y’see, and I suppose a church will always be a ‘kirk’ to me.”

  “It’s just fine to call it a kirk if you wish, Mrs. MacLaren, and yes, I minister at the Simpson Creek Church, though my father still has the official title. He’s had an apoplexy and finds it difficult to speak, though, so I do the preaching.”

  “’Tis delighted I am to meet ye, Reverend Gil,” Coira said with a bright smile. “So ’twould have been yer father and not yerself that brought our Maudie up to be the fine Christian lass she is?”

  Maudie? Maude could hardly believe her ears, hearing Coira MacLaren use an affectionate form of her name. Her father used to call her Maudie.

  Reverend Gil beamed. “It’s true that I’ve only been ministering in Simpson Creek for a relatively short time, but even my father wouldn’t take credit for Maude’s character. He always said what a fine Christian man Miss Maude’s father, Dr. Harkey, was. And her mother was a good, faithful woman. It was a very sad loss when she was taken from us, though nowhere near as tragic as the loss of Dr. Harkey. But I know they would both be proud of their daughter. And yes, I heard the story of Miss Maude courageously coming to the aid of your housekeeper. Simpson Creek is very proud of her.”

  “Aye, and so it should be. She’s a braw girl. Though she’s decimated my aloe plants to help Senora Morales,” she said with a wink at Maude. “I’m grateful for her healing skill.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. MacLaren,” Maude said, feeling flushed at the unexpected praise. “I’ll just leave you two to talk for a while, while I go see if Senora Morales is up to a visitor. Then I’ll come back and take you to see her, Reverend Gil.” She had to smother a smile as she left. From the eager look in Coira’s eye, Maude had a feeling the old lady was going to talk Reverend Gil’s ear off.

  Senora Morales was thrilled to hear that she was to have a visitor, and required Maude’s assistance in combing her hair and donning a fresh wrapper so she would be fit for company. Maude smile as she left the housekeeper. All in all, she figured the reverend would be savoring the blessed silence during his ride home, while she was unable to get over how Jonas had praised her to the preacher.

  * * *

  At supper time, all Coira and Senora Morales could talk about was how nice they thought the young minister had been, how kind, what a good listener, and how much they wished they lived closer to town so they could attend services and hear him preach.

 
“Aye, well, I don’t mind saying I was pleasantly surprised at him, too,” Jonas said. “The entire time he was here, he didn’t stick a hand out for so much as a penny. Most unusual for a cleric, in my experience.”

  Maude couldn’t stifle a small cry of exasperation. “Reverend Chadwick wouldn’t think of asking for money during a pastoral call,” she protested. “Are you saying that’s what you’re used to, Mr. MacLaren?”

  “Aye, ’tis generally what the clergy are after, when they come calling. Oh, they do not ask for funds in so many words, they don’t,” he said with a cynical twist of his lips. “But in my experience they always manage to ask for money in some way or another. And who can blame them, living poor as church mice? Dinna fash yerself, Miss Maude,” he added as she opened her mouth to protest. “I’m sayin’ yer Reverend Gil is a fine man, a credit to his kirk. And nary once did I feel he was here for any cause but to pay his respects to us all, and ensure your good treatment at our hands. ’Twas a fine visit.”

  Maude sighed. She had enjoyed it, too, not only because Reverend Gil had prayed for her before he left and blessed little Hannah, but because of the cheering effect he had had on both Jonas’s mother and the housekeeper. He had also brought news of the life she had left behind her in Simpson Creek, though, that had her feeling a bit homesick. Mrs. Meyer had a new tenant in one of her rooms—likely the room Juana had occupied, since Maude’s old room was still vacant. Jane Jeffries, as the new president of the Spinsters’ Club, had announced a Christmas party to be held in the church social hall. All of it made Maude miss the life she had left behind. He had brought some good news that related to her directly, too—Felix Renz, Hannah’s father, hadn’t returned. Hannah was still safely hers.

  * * *

  Three days later, the weather defied the calendar and was warm as a day in spring. Restless when Coira announced she would take a nap and had no need of her for a while, Maude decided to take a walk to have a closer look at some of the small cottages she had seen nestled against the hills when she’d toured the ranch. Senora Morales had said her daughter lived in one of them and would welcome a visit. Thinking Juana could probably use some time to herself, Maude tied Hannah onto her back with a shawl and, wearing sturdy boots in case she encountered any rattlesnakes enjoying the sun, she set out.