A Family for the Rancher

by Louise M. Gouge

  Sure enough, she got busy talking as soon as they’d settled in the parlor after a fine supper of fried pork chops.

  “Tell me more about yourself, Edmund.” She started to work mending a pair of trousers Jacob had torn the day before on some barbed wire. “You said you came from North Texas. Have you been out of the state at all?”

  “Sure have.” He would talk about the good things and keep the bad memories in the past where they belonged. “When I started out on my own, I decided to try something different from farmwork. I went down to New Orleans and worked on the docks for a while. Then I got this crazy idea to sign on to a ship hauling coffee to New York. We hadn’t any more than left the dock when I knew I’d made a mistake. Got seasick real quick and jumped ship.” He laughed at the memory and at her raised eyebrows. She sure was pretty when she looked surprised. “Well, I didn’t quite jump ship. When we got out into the rough waters of the Gulf, the captain decided I was pretty much useless and sent me back to land on the first ship we passed headed that way.”

  “Oh, my.” Lula May laughed in the musical way of hers. She’d not been as preoccupied this evening as she’d been last night and hadn’t glanced toward her office once. “Then what happened?”

  “I headed back to Texas.”

  “Walking?”

  “Walking.” His feet hurt at the memory of those many long miles over rutted, rocky roads in weather-beaten, thin-soled boots.

  “Oh, my,” she said again, and her pretty blue eyes got all round with wonder and a hint of sympathy. He didn’t need any of that.

  “Turned out it was the best thing that could’ve happened to me.” He could hear the gruffness in his own voice, so he softened it real quick. “That old cowboy I told you about came along and took me under his wing. Taught me everything I know about cattle ranching, helped me get a job. Even staked me when I bought the ranch.”

  “What a blessing.” Her eyes lit up in a different way now, like she understood what he meant.

  Her kindly response and the interested light in those big blue eyes made him want to say more, so he went on to tell her a few stories about New Orleans, things he’d forgotten over the past seventeen or so years. “I found a little church with mostly poor folks, but they were mighty warmhearted. Got to do some carpentry work and painting on some fine houses in the Garden District. That kept body and soul together.” He considered only telling her about the good things, but then found himself still talking. “Truth is, though, the city has some powerful temptations for a sixteen-year-old still not sure of his way in life, so after a while I hightailed it out of there before I got caught in that net. Like I said, sea life didn’t work out, so I headed back to Texas feeling like a failure. That’s when Old Gad came along and told me different. He showed me how God had been directing me all the way.”

  As he talked, he realized how much he’d changed this past week, too. His heart felt lighter, and he rarely brooded. Life just seemed altogether better. He felt better. Almost mellow. And he had a feeling it had nothing to do with spending time with Jacob and the other boys teaching them about ranching. It was this pretty little lady and her warm, welcoming home. Not that he would set any store by it. He mustn’t forget that she could turn peevish at any moment.

  “Now it’s your turn.” He set up the checkerboard in anticipation of Calvin joining them once his chores were done. “Tell me about growing up on a plantation in Alabama.”

  Lula May’s jaw dropped slightly, then she gripped her lower lip between her teeth for a moment and glanced toward her office. Edmund wanted to kick himself. Somehow he’d opened a wound, and he had no idea how to fix it. He started to apologize, but she spoke first.

  “It wasn’t a plantation, just a few acres.” She shrugged. “Used to be part of a large cotton plantation, and a couple of the former slaves stayed on to work for my uncle for pay.”

  Edmund grasped that idea. “Like the old groom who taught you about horses.”

  She nodded but didn’t say anything more.

  The children chose that time to wander in, and the conversation drifted to other topics. Edmund felt a hitch of annoyance that Lula May wanted to know all about him but wouldn’t tell him about her own life. Didn’t she realize how hard it had been for him to open up? So much for their friendly chats. Maybe she hadn’t asked him about his life because she was interested but just to pass the time. He’d spoken of deep things of his past while she only spoke of external matters. That wasn’t very promising. So much for his earlier feelings of coming home. So much for his plans to talk about books.

  Besides, he was content with his solitary life. It wouldn’t make any sense to go from that to having a ready-made family with a noisy woman and five children. He wouldn’t be able to abide for long that odd way she shut down from time to time. As much as she talked about everything else but wouldn’t open up about her past, he decided she was just moody. He could do without that. And all the fried pork chops in the world wouldn’t entice him back here once this week was over.

  Chapter Five

  Lula May had saved one of her best meals for Saturday night, and she went all out to make it exceptional: pan-fried steak with a mix of spicy seasonings she’d come up with several years ago, baked potatoes, corn and lima bean succotash, her special mixed garden pickles and a carrot cake topped with the thick, buttery icing she’d invented. The special ingredients for all of these dishes had put a dent in her food budget, and all took more time than she should spend in the kitchen, what with horses to train and endless chores to do. But Jacob’s new self-confidence gave her plenty of reason to show her appreciation to the man who inspired it.

  Further, she got a kick out of seeing Edmund’s eyes light up as he sat down to supper each evening. Even before that, each time as he walked through the kitchen toward the dining room, he took in deep breaths like he enjoyed the aromas of her cooking. Had he been tempted to lift a pot lid to see what was cooking, as Frank used to do? As her stepsons still did? The thought of it gave her a laugh.

  She’d also come up with a few topics of conversation not as personal as last night’s to avoid having to share too much about herself. His story about Old Gad had touched her deeply. God truly had saved Edmund from many troubles and griefs in life. In return, oh, how she’d been tempted to tell him about Uncle. But to what end? That he might ride over here from his place and protect her from that evil man? Maybe Edmund would agree that she’d committed a crime by taking the necklace and, even worse, by selling it. No, she’d do best to manage Uncle on her own and work out whatever it took to protect herself and her children. She might be able to out-barter a cowboy when selling a horse, but she’d have to do some clever maneuvering to outwit Uncle Floyd Jones. Right now she had some people to feed.

  Sure enough, after Edmund and Jacob washed up in the mudroom, Edmund paused at the kitchen door to draw in a deep breath. Eyes closed in apparent bliss, he grinned and shook his head.

  “Miss Lula May Barlow, I have no idea how you manage to come up with so many fine-smelling meals, but I do believe you’ve outdone yourself this evening.” Clearly feeling at home in her kitchen, he walked over to the stove and lifted the lid on the fry pan just long enough to see what was cooking. “Ouch!” The lid dropped back in place with a clatter, and he shook his singed fingers. Why didn’t men ever think to use a pot holder? Fortunately, Edmund recovered quickly. “Steak. A cattleman’s favorite meal. Thank you, ma’am, for keeping us in business.” My, he was talkative this evening.

  Just as Pauline and Daniel came back to the kitchen from setting the table, Edmund favored her with that crooked grin of his that made his face all the more good-looking. Against her will, Lula May felt her breath hitch slightly. The children took in the scene and shared a look and a giggle. She’d have to take them to task for it later. Right now she was having a hard time tamping down a silly little hiccup in her che
st.

  Did Edmund have any idea how attractive his grin was? She doubted it. Never once in her ten years of knowing him—although not well at all—had she ever seen him flirt with the unattached young ladies at church. Probably a confirmed bachelor. Which was fine with her. She was just as set in her newfound singleness.

  “You’re very welcome, Mr. Edmund McKay.” She couldn’t keep a playful tone from her voice, even as a hint of sadness struck her heart. This was his last night with them, and she was honest enough to admit, to herself anyway, that she’d miss him. She took a platter from the kitchen cabinet, forked the steaks onto it and held it out to him. “Now, make yourself useful and set this on the table. The children and I will bring the rest.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He took the platter, and their fingers brushed.

  A shock shot up her arm, leaving behind a pleasant tingling feeling at the side of her neck. Lula May gasped softly. From Edmund’s tiny jolt and wide-eyed look, she guessed he’d felt something, too. There was only one way out of this. Only one way to stamp out a plain old silly physical attraction that could get both of them nothing but trouble if they sought to encourage it.

  She sniffed dramatically and gave his arm a little shove. “Get moving. Nobody likes cold steak.”

  He cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am.” From the way he strode toward the dining room, he appeared to have discovered new purpose in life. Or maybe he was in the same hurry to get away from unwelcomed feelings.

  Lula May turned to dish up the succotash only to see her daughter and youngest son giving her those silly grins again. “All right, you two, get busy.” She handed a bowl of food to each one, removed her apron and hung it on a peg by the kitchen door and followed them into the dining room.

  What a good feeling their giggling gave her despite the mischief behind it. Carefree giggles had been few and far between in this house these past few years. They’d all grieved Frank’s lengthy illness and death for a long time and, she supposed, they’d always miss their pa, as she still missed her own parents. Yet, in spite of losses, a person had to go on living; a mother had to see that her children had all they needed in life no matter how much work it took. Laughter lightened the load considerably.

  As it turned out, she didn’t need to bring up any of the topics of conversation she’d worked so hard to think of. At Edmund’s urging and with Lula May’s permission, Jacob spent most of the meal telling the story of the whole week.

  After going on for several minutes, he said, “We even had a contest between ranch and town boys to see who could learn each job quickest.” He gave his older brothers a smug, conspiratorial look. “O’course, we ranchers won.” He shoveled in a bite of steak and chewed thoughtfully. “Those town boys weren’t so bad after all.”

  Because he had the talking feather beside his plate, no one spoke as they waited for him to continue. This was Jacob’s night, and Lula May had never seen him so outspoken or enthusiastic.

  “That Elgin Arundel turned out to be pretty strong. He says he’s been helping his folks carry stuff at the general store ever since he could walk. And that Georgie Henley, well, he’s not a quitter.” Jacob snorted out a derisive laugh. “He still struts like a dandy, just like his pa. I guess bankers need to put on airs so people will remember they’re rich and important.” No meanness colored his words, so Lula May let the comment pass.

  While her other children laughed at his joke, her heart overflowed with happiness at these observations. She gave Edmund a grateful smile down the length of the table, but he was watching Jacob. Was that a hint of pride she saw in his eyes? Seemed like this week had been good for him, too.

  “This afternoon, we went to town and visited the businesses, just like you said to do, Ma.” Jacob gave her a nod. “Me and Adam... I mean, Adam and I can see that those folks work almost as hard as ranchers and cowboys. Almost.” His blue eyes twinkled, reminding Lula May of Frank. “O’course, they’re usually a lot cleaner than us.”

  Everyone laughed again. Calvin and Samuel started to speak at the same time, but Jacob held up the talking feather with surprising authority. “Hang on. I saved the best for last.” He cast a quick, shy grin at Edmund, who returned a kindly nod. “Mr. McKay gave each of us a special Bible verse to take as our own.”

  Again, Lula May’s heart skipped. She stared at Edmund. Was there no end to this man’s surprises? “What’s your verse, Jacob?”

  Her son sat up straight in his chair and cleared his throat, just as Pastor Stillwater often did when he was about to speak from God’s Word. “Psalm 135:4. ‘For the Lord hath chosen Jacob unto Himself.’” He grinned just as if he’d received the finest gift of his life. “Mr. McKay said that verse was mainly about Israel, but it’s all right to claim it for myself, too. God chose me for Himself.”

  A wondrous, joyous chill swept over Lula May, and tears sprang to her eyes. Edmund must have stayed up late at night searching for just the right verse for each boy. If all of them were as personal and life-changing as these beautiful words from the Psalms, those boys would no doubt walk with the Lord all the days of their lives. What a good man Edmund was to point them to God.

  When she could speak without blubbering, she said, “That’s mighty fine, son. I hope you never forget it.” She’d heard about folks choosing a Bible verse to carry in their hearts, one with special meaning in their lives and which brought them closer to the Lord. Maybe she needed to do that herself. Without thinking, she said, “Edmund, what’s your verse?” Oh, my. Why had she put him on the spot that way?

  He didn’t seem to mind because he answered without hesitation. “It’s one Old Gad gave me shortly after we met. Ephesians 1:6. ‘He hath made us accepted in the Beloved.’” The faraway look in his eyes and the soft smile on his handsome face indicated how deeply that verse still affected him.

  “Ah, I do like that verse.” From the story he told last night, Lula May guessed that was exactly what a lonely wandering orphan boy had needed to know: that God accepted him because of Jesus, the Beloved. What did she need to know? Maybe she should pray for a special verse, not only for herself, but for each of her other children beside Jacob.

  The conversation around the table turned to other things while Lula May served a dessert of vanilla pudding and cookies, a treat too messy for the younger ones to eat in the parlor. When everyone finished and the children started clearing the table, Lula May waved a hand toward the other room. “Shall we?”

  Edmund stood and shook his head. “Thank you, ma’am, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline tonight. I have some work to do before I can take off all day Sunday. I hope you’ll excuse me.”

  For the briefest moment, Lula May could only stare at him while disappointment coursed through her. She managed to force a smile. “Of course. I have to be sure our church clothes are ready for tomorrow. That’ll take a while.” What a thing to say! She’d spent the morning washing and ironing shirts and dresses and making sure Daniel did a good job of polishing everyone’s best shoes and boots.

  “So you’re glad to get rid of me?” His green eyes twinkled in a teasing way, something she’d never seen in the man before this week. He’d changed and for the better. She had, too. But she couldn’t let him know it.

  “Oh, my, yes. It’s been a real burden having to entertain you all this week.” She punctuated her words with a merry laugh.

  “I thought so.” His deep chuckle only added to her regret that he was leaving. He walked toward her, well, toward the door to the kitchen, which was behind her, and she felt her pulse race.

  This is ridiculous. She was acting like a schoolgirl. Like the silly girls at church who clustered around Calvin.

  Edmund stopped beside her and took her hand. “Lula May, this has been a pure pleasure. I’ll miss your fine cooking.” His eyes still wore that teasing expression.

  “I’m so sorry you had to put up with
our company just to get a decent meal.”

  Still holding her hand, he shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Well, now, sometimes a man has to suffer a bit to get the good things in life.”

  For longer than they should have, the two of them stared at each other. More than ever before in her life, Lula May felt the power of a man’s presence, this man’s presence. Yet she had no fear, no reservations. Just maybe a hint of longing that he wouldn’t leave...ever. She shook herself inwardly. Edmund had done a wise thing to tease her. She’d done right to tease back.

  Pulling her hand free, she touched his upper arm to give him a little shove toward the kitchen. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

  Another of those warm chuckles emanated from deep within that broad chest. “Yes, ma’am.” He ambled through the kitchen, saying goodbye to each of the children in a way to show he’d noticed them, another sign of his kindness.

  He grabbed his hat from a peg by the back door, and the whole family followed him out into the yard where his stallion awaited him near the hitching rail but not tied there. As Edmund rode away, the children continued to wave and call goodbye until he was out of sight. Then they all stood staring in that direction until Lula May chased them back to their unfinished chores.

  Yet as she made final preparations for tomorrow’s church attendance, her mind remained focused on Edmund. He’d done so much good for her family. Was he as sorry for the week to be over as she was?

  * * *

  As he rode home, Edmund realized he hadn’t felt this lonely in a long time, which was pretty foolish because he’d been alone most of his thirty-three years. Early this morning, he’d made the decision not to stay after supper, and he’d stuck to his guns. A wise move because he couldn’t let himself get caught up any further with the Barlow family. Their joys, their sorrows, that kind of thing. Lula May had made it clear she wouldn’t open up to him about whatever troubled her, while he could tell something unpleasant hung over her.