Hill Country Courtship

by Laurie Kingery

  “Why don’t you have a seat in that big leather chair behind you, Mr. Renz, and you can hold Hannah,” Maude suggested.

  “I’ll just do that,” Renz said, grinning ear to ear as Maude settled the baby in his lap. “What a lively little girl you are—and I think you got your papa’s nose, little Hannah, and his hair color,” he murmured. Then his eyes narrowed.

  “What is this on the front of her shirt?” he inquired suspiciously.

  Juana glided forward. “Oh, senor, I’m sorry,” she said in a sweet voice. “But the niña was so excited to hear that you had come to see her that she spit up her milk. I did not want to make you wait even longer while I changed her clothing, so I just brought her as she was. I knew a father would understand.”

  Renz nose wrinkled in obvious distaste. “Yes, well, of course I do,” he said in a tone that was far from convincing.

  Hannah didn’t like being handed off from Juana’s familiar arms to those of a stranger whose arms were stiff, and decided to protest as only a baby could, setting up a loud wail of protest that quickly turned to howls of rage as Renz, unfazed at first, began to bounce the baby as if he thought he could jolly her out of it.

  Maude had to struggle not to seize Hannah from her so-called father’s arms and comfort her. She could tell from Juana’s rigidly set jaw that her friend was fighting the same internal struggle. Deliberately, she made eye contact with her friend and winked, and Juana relaxed.

  Just then Hanna decided she had had enough of this pomaded stranger and threw up all over the man’s store-bought shirt.

  Renz’s reaction was everything she could have hoped for. He jumped up and held the squalling baby out in front of him as if to lessen the chance of any further such damage before indignantly turning to Maude.

  “Is she sick?” he demanded.

  “Not at all,” she said, keeping her tone carefree. “Just not enthusiastic about being bounced around by a stranger right after she’s eaten. She’ll be all right now.”

  Renz’s attempted smile was sickly. “I—I see. Of course. But...” He looked down at the spit-up milk on his shirt and turned a sickly green.

  “We must wash your shirt for you, senor,” Juana purred soothingly. “I’m sure we can find something for you to wear meanwhile. I’ll be right back with it.”

  Minutes later, Juana brought down a cast-off shirt of Jonas’s to lend Renz while she scrubbed the sour milk out of Renz’s garment. Jonas must have intended the borrowed shirt for the roughest, dirtiest work around the ranch, for while it was clean, it was also threadbare and showed clumsily mended repairs. After putting it on, Renz looked even more pathetic, for he didn’t have Jonas’s long arms or broad chest, and the shirt was hopelessly baggy on him. But it was free of spit-up milk, and Renz made a valiant attempt to pretend he was taking it all in stride.

  “Goes with the territory, I reckon,” he said with false cheerfulness, once he returned wearing Jonas’s old shirt. “Suppose I should get used to it if I’m going to be a good papa to my girl.”

  Maude darted a glance at Jonas, who had taken up a position in the corner of the room, leaning against a wall as if he was too restless to sit. She saw that his jaw was rigidly set as if he dared not relax it for a moment for fear of what words he might utter. Indeed, he had maintained a stoic silence since Renz’s arrival, though the tension in his face and his shoulders showed what a strain it had been.

  “And about that,” Renz began. “I’ll need you to pack up all my girl’s things so I can be headin’ back to Simpson Creek with her.”

  Maude did her best not to gasp, but out of the corner of her eye she saw Jonas’s face lose several shades of color before it flushed with anger.

  “And where were you going to live with her? When you’re in town, that is?” she asked.

  “Mrs. Meyer always keeps a room for me. You know that, Miss Maude.”

  So he was just assuming that Mrs. Meyer would take Hannah back in, Maude guessed, without considering the inconvenience it would be to the rest of the household. Did he think he possessed that much charm that he could convince Mrs. Meyer to agree to such a thing?

  “And what are you going to do when you have to go sell your pots and pans, Mr. Renz?”

  He grinned. “Ah, you know Mrs. Meyer. She’s an old softy, and she’s always loved babies. I’ll bet for a little extra cash she’d love to keep my little April till her papa could come back. And it wouldn’t be long before my little sweetie could go traveling with her papa. I’ll wager the old ladies I call on would buy twice as much if they could dandle my daughter on their knees.”

  His bold assumption that he could take Hannah out on the road like some kind of a good luck charm, ignoring the baby’s comfort and feeding schedules for his own profit, made Maude want to slap him for being such a fool.

  “And what were you planning to feed her, Mr. Renz? Hannah is still nursing and hasn’t started on solid food yet. That’s why I brought Juana with me when Hannah and I moved here,” she added, nodding toward the Mexican girl.

  Renz’s eyes shifted to Juana, and a sly look came over his face. “Well now, I could make it worth your while, senora,” he said. “You could stay at the boardinghouse, handy for my daughter when she needed you—I’m sure Mrs. Meyer could find an extra room for you, and you could help her mind the baby while I’m away. And when Hannah’s big enough to go on the road with me, you could travel with us, too, if you was of a mind to.”

  “You would have to pay for Juana’s room,” Maude reminded him.

  “And how could I travel with you, an unmarried man? What of my good name, senor?” Juana demanded, her dark eyes flashing. “I am a respectable widow.”

  For a moment Renz looked to be at a loss, but then he eyed Juana up and down in a way that made Maude’s skin crawl. “Well, I reckon we could get hitched for a while, at least, you and I. That’d make it all respectable, sure enough.”

  “For a while?” Juana echoed. “What are you saying, senor?”

  Renz shot her an easy grin. “Well, my little Hannah won’t be needin’ you to feed her forever, will she? One a’ these days soon she’ll be eating regular food, and when that happens you can go your own way, if you like. But you never know—you might begin t’like bein’ married to me. I make good money in my travels, I’ll have you know.”

  “That is out of the question, as my husband died only recently and I am still mourning him, but I thank you for the proposal,” Juana told him with much more courtesy than Maude could have mustered in a thousand years. But there was a dangerous glint in her eyes.

  “But there must be a way,” Renz blustered. “A man has a right to be a father to his child.”

  Maude wanted to shout that he’d missed his chance to act as a true father to this baby by not staying with her mother. Just then, however, a noise erupted from Hannah that was unmistakable and signaled a need for a change of her diaper.

  Maude and Juana exchanged knowing looks.

  “Senor Renz, why don’t you come with me?” Juana said. “Your daughter needs some cleansing and a fresh pañal—a diaper.”

  Renz had risen and approached, but as soon as he got close and caught a whiff of the tell-tale odor, he backed away.

  “No thanks, Miss Juana. I’m sure you’re much more capable...”

  “But I insist, senor,” Juana said sweetly. “It’s something any good father should know how to do.”

  With the offer framed that way, there was no way he could gracefully refuse, and he knew it.

  When he came back down, minutes later, the green tinge to his complexion had deepened.

  “Mr. Renz,” Maude began, “we were thinking you might like to stay with us for a few days and learn how to care for your daughter, so that if you are able to come to a solution as to how she will be fed, you’ll know how to be a father to he
r.”

  “Stay? Here?” His gaze darted around the room, then settled back on Maude.

  She’d already discussed this with Jonas and knew he would permit it for the reasons she’d explained, but she didn’t want to be around when someone told Coira about the presence of this disreputable scoundrel under her roof. Ah, well, it was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

  “I...I suppose I could do that,” he allowed.

  Maude guessed he’d been planning to go to the saloon when he returned to Simpson Creek, and he was probably regretting the loss of an evening spent over cards and whiskey bottles. Too bad.

  “While you’re here, you’ll assume full care of Hannah,” she informed him. “You’ll do all diaper changes, her bath...we’ll wake you in the night when she gets up to nurse, and you’ll stay awake until she goes back to sleep.” It would mean one of them would have to be with the man and his child as long as Renz remained at the ranch house, and in all likelihood neither she nor Jonas would sleep a wink until he had gone, but if it worked to convince him that he wasn’t suited for fatherhood, it was worth it.

  His face was a study in suspicion, but he only said, “I understand. It’s very good of you to be so hospitable.”

  Hospitality had nothing to do with it, and they both knew it, so she settled for uttering a noncommittal “You’re welcome,” and showed him to his room.

  She wondered if there was time for Senora Morales to make haggis for supper.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jonas watched them go, marveling at Maude’s calmness with wee Hannah’s scoundrel of a father. She was quite a braw lass, his Maude. He wished he could go and tell her how much he admired her right now.

  If it had been left up to him, he would have saved the trouble of Renz’s visit and thrown the man bodily out of the house as soon as he arrived, hoping he’d meet up with a pack of Comanches on the warpath before he made it back to Simpson Creek. But this had been the minister’s plan, and Jonas had to admit he could see the logic in it. If Renz decided on his own that he wasn’t up to being a father, then they’d never have to worry about him returning.

  By the time two full days of Renz’s presence had passed, the ranch house’s inhabitants’ tempers were on a razor’s edge. Jonas noted deep shadows under Maude’s eyes. Juana had told him that every time she got up to nurse Hannah, Maude sat with her and Felix Renz so that her friend would not have to be alone with the man while she performed such a personal task.

  At first, Renz apparently thought it was a good idea to use the time to make flirty conversation with Juana while he sat up with them, which had the effect of thoroughly waking Hannah up so that she stayed awake far longer into the night than she would have otherwise.

  After two or three attempts at sparkling repartee, however, Maude had had enough and finally told him to hold his peace. “Mr. Renz, the object is to get the baby fed and back to sleep, so that we can go back to sleep, too,” she growled. “Not to convince her that the middle of the night is an entertaining time to be awake.”

  “Sorry,” he said with obviously false regret. “I’m just trying to keep myself awake. After all, it was your idea that I be present for my daughter’s feedings, Miss Maude.”

  By the third afternoon, when Jonas went to visit his mother’s room to see if Maude would like to get some fresh air, he found her dozing in the rocking chair by his mother’s bed with Ivanhoe still spread open on her lap.

  “Look at the lass,” his mother said. “So busy guardin’ the wee bairn that she’s not getting any sleep of a night. Ye must do something, Jonas.”

  Maude had stirred slightly at the sound of Coira’s voice, then settled back into sleep.

  “He’ll be gone tomorrow,” Jonas promised. He knelt by the side of the rocker. “Maude. Maude,” he whispered, touching her forearm gently.

  She startled awake, her limbs flailing, eyes darting wildly around.

  “Jonas...Mrs. MacLaren...I—I fell asleep. I’m so sorry,” she said, sure despite the kindness she saw in Jonas’s eyes, that his mother had called her son into the room to reprimand her.

  “Och, dinna fash yerself, lass. It’s obvious you’re dead on your feet, so it is,” Coira said from her bed.

  “Go take a wee rest,” Jonas said.

  “But I can’t!” she protested. “It’s the middle of the day. Hannah—”

  “Will be fine. I’ll watch over Juana and the wee bairn while you sleep, and see to Mother, too. Go have a nap, that’s an order,” he insisted, wishing he could smooth the tendrils of dark red hair away from her forehead.

  Renz would be gone tomorrow, like it or not, he decided. Having the man in the house was horrible for everyone, and it could not be tolerated any longer. He couldn’t keep a proper eye on the ranch and on the weasel in his house at the same time, and he was just fortunate he had such a reliable foreman as Hector to take up the slack while he stayed on guard in his home. Yes, tomorrow the man would be going—whether he liked it or not.

  The next day, however, things came to a head without his intervention. He and Maude were sitting in the dining room having dinner at noon the next day when Juana came stamping into the room, carrying Hannah, her eyes ablaze with fury.

  “He’s leaving, that malvado, that...that...” Words failed her, and she went off into a torrent of Spanish, stamping her feet. Jonas thought it likely she was maligning Renz’s parentage.

  Maude jumped up and took Hannah into her arms. “What happened, Juana? Why are you so angry? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  “That one?” Juana looked scornful. “As if he could! No, mi amiga, what he did do was laughable, however—he asked me again to marry him!”

  “What?”

  “Sí, he asked me to marry him, the fool. He thought I was just panting to be a gringo’s wife—as if he or anyone could measure up to my poor Tomás! He said if we wed, then all would be well and that there could be no objection to his taking Hannah if he had a wife who could care for her and feed her.”

  “Never mind that he doesn’t have more than a boardinghouse room to call his own,” Maude murmured, amazed at the man’s effrontery.

  “He couldn’t believe I refused to consider marrying him,” Juana said. “He said I was foolish...and a few things worse than foolish.”

  Jonas jumped to his feet. “I’ll just go make sure Mr. Renz is having no trouble getting his possessions packed up and ready to go,” he said. If it became necessary for his fist to connect with Renz’s face in order to assist his departure, that would be an added bonus.

  Half an hour later, after he had seen Renz gallop down the lane that led to the road, Jonas reentered the house, thinking about the man’s final words to him—“Thank you, and please tell the ladies that I thank them for giving me this precious time with my baby girl. Of course, it only served to show me that I could not possibly do as well as Miss Juana and Miss Maude are doing to raise her. If Miss Juana reconsiders my offer, she has but to leave word at the boardinghouse.”

  Glib words. He’d no doubt used such glib words to tempt Hannah’s mother to trust him with her love. The man was a scoundrel. Jonas wanted to burn the sheets Renz had slept on in order to cleanse his house of any minute trace of the man.

  Please God, don’t let our Hannah grow up with any of her father’s despicable traits, he prayed. But surely if he and Maude brought her up with love and care and taught her well...

  He stopped on the threshold, threw back his head, and laughed. Not only had he just prayed—a thing he had barely done in years—but he’d thought of himself and Maude as a couple who’d raise Hannah as proper parents should.

  What a dreamer he was. He’d barely begun to properly court the lovely woman who lived under his roof, and already he was thinking of raising Hannah with her. He was certainly getting ahead of himself.

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nbsp; * * *

  “That’s it, he’s gone, then,” Coira hissed as she stood at the window of her bedroom, leaning on her cane and on Maude’s arm, and watching Renz ride off. “Good riddance, I say.”

  Maude had been more than a little surprised when Coira had been so eager to see the last of the man that she’d insisted on getting out of her bed to see him leave, and now, standing next to Jonas’s mother at the bedroom window, she watched the cloud of dust that Renz’s horse raised growing more and more distant.

  “Yes, I hope we’ve seen the last of him,” she murmured. “Though I told Jonas to tell him he was welcome to visit anytime he wanted to see his daughter.” She froze when she realized she’d referred to Jonas by his first name, and waited for his mother’s stinging rebuke for her familiarity.

  But no rebuke came. Instead, the woman started back toward her bed. “Och, but that fair wore me out. You’re a good lass, Maude, that ye are. Ye showed yerself to be a good Christian woman in the way ye treated the man.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “I just tried to remember that it can’t be easy for him, having a child and knowing he can’t properly raise her.”

  “Though I’d have beat him with my cane if the bounder had tried to take wee Hannah.”

  Maude had to smile at Coira’s repeated threat.

  Just then, they heard the sound of the door opening at the front of the house, and a moment later, a hearty male laugh wafted up the stairs to them. It was Jonas, she knew.

  Coira smiled. “Maude, I believe you’re a good influence on the both of us, Jonas and me. I’ve not heard my son laugh for many a year.”

  Too touched to speak for a moment, Maude waited until she could talk without her voice shaking. “Thank you. And how was your visit with Reverend Gil the other day when he and the sheriff called? I meant to ask you, and then I forgot, what with keeping an eye on our ‘visitor’ and all.”

  Coira winced as she sat down on the bed, then shifted so Maude could help her lift her bony legs onto the mattress. But the smile she turned on Maude was beatific.