A Family for the Rancher

by Louise M. Gouge

  From watching Josiah and Betsy, he knew husbands and wives needed to talk about their deepest secrets so they could support one another. Not that he was looking to marry, of course, but...enough of that! He didn’t know where those thoughts were headed. Best to cut them off right now. He’d done his duty by the Young Ranchers’ Club, and he’d made friends with those boys and their families. Now he had to concentrate on the cattlemen’s association and putting an end to the cattle rustling. Other than making sure Lula May got to next Tuesday’s meeting, he’d back off from intruding into her life.

  Even so, he did have to admit he’d enjoyed teasing with her this evening. She dished out as good as she took it. He liked that. And he looked forward to seeing the family tomorrow at church. Did he have a clean shirt? With managing the boys all week, he hadn’t thought about washing clothes, his most hated chore after cooking. Usually he got by with wearing his one white shirt two Sundays in a row because he changed clothes right after going home from church. Now that somehow didn’t seem good enough. He could just see Lula May’s blue eyes get all big and round with horror if he looked unkempt, one of Old Gad’s favorite words.

  Now why all of a sudden did he worry about her approval? Must be the way she silently inspected her children all the time, probably making sure they’d washed up good and proper. He didn’t need that sort of thing from her.

  Still, he did have to admit he’d enjoyed teasing with her. Could enjoy more of it. But maybe she wouldn’t want to. Maybe because he wouldn’t be going back anymore, the connection that had begun to grow between them would be broken. The thought pained him.

  He lifted his eyes toward the fading light over the prairie sky. Time for an earnest prayer about the matter. “Lord, why do I keep thinking about that pretty little lady?”

  In answer to his heartfelt prayer, only one thing came to mind. He’d see her at church services in the morning. While that thought settled his mind, his emotions jumped just about as high as the bright evening star blinking in the darkening sky. Even Zephyr perked up and began to prance down the road at the thought of it.

  * * *

  To Lula May’s consternation, after the children jumped down from the wagon in front of the church tent, they ran over to Edmund and greeted him like a long-lost relative instead of a neighbor they’d seen the evening before. All except Calvin. Hands stuck in his trouser pockets, he strolled toward Daisy Carson, his face all moon-eyed like a sick puppy. Oh, my. The last thing she needed was for her eldest stepson to get too involved with a girl. Lula May knew a local couple who’d married at sixteen and went on to live happily. But Calvin lacked the background to become the good husband every woman needed and deserved. His father’s long illness had prevented Calvin from receiving the benefit of the wisdom Frank had garnered from two good marriages. Not only that, Calvin just plain needed to do a bit more growing up.

  As Lula May’s worries reared up to pester her, Daisy said something to Calvin and then stomped away toward her sister Molly, who stood with her new husband, CJ Thorn, and Nancy Bennett. Calvin’s posture slumped. While Lula May’s heart went out to him, she couldn’t help but be relieved. He was young. He’d get over it.

  The moment she began to feel smug about Daisy’s behavior, Edmund stepped over to the wagon and held out his hand. “May I help you down, Lula May?”

  The woodsy smell of his cologne reached her senses as he gave her that crooked grin of his. Her heart jumped into her throat, preventing her from answering...until she caught the speculative looks in Molly Thorn’s and Nancy Bennett’s eyes, not to mention CJ’s raised eyebrows. In the distance, Constance Hickey, the town gossip, frowned in Lula May’s direction. The last thing she needed was that woman gossiping about her.

  “I can manage just fine, thank you very much.” Her words came out more harshly than she’d intended, but nothing could be done about that. She clambered down, admittedly without a hint of gracefulness. As she descended, her skirt snagged on a splinter on the wagon, and she had to gently pull it free to avoid a larger tear.

  “Humph.” Edmund’s pleasant expression faded into a frown. “Whatever you say.” He strode away toward the church tent where Pastor Stillwater stood greeting folks.

  Lula May’s heart dropped. Her carefully honed self-sufficiency...in truth, her pride...had caused her to be rude to a man who didn’t deserve it just because she feared a nosy gossip. For the past three years, she’d built up a wall around herself and her family as protection against anyone who might take advantage of Frank’s illness to somehow exploit the situation or gossip about the family. This past week with Edmund’s nightly visits, she’d grown soft, but now, with Uncle’s arrival imminent, she knew she must reinforce her wall. That didn’t mean she had to rebuff the mannerly gesture of a man who’d only done good for her children.

  She started to follow him, but he was already deep in conversation with the pastor, so she couldn’t exactly go over and apologize. And she wasn’t about to invite him to dinner after church just to make up for her bad manners. Nor would she offer to iron his Sunday shirt, which definitely needed a woman’s touch. She’d noticed a small scorch mark on the white cotton fabric right next to the lapel of his black frock coat. Did he know how to remove scorches? Was he like Frank, who, before he married Lula May, had ironed only the fronts of his shirts when he was going to wear a jacket because the back of the shirt wouldn’t be seen? She grinned to herself at the memory.

  “What’s so funny?” Molly Thorn approached, her face beaming with joy, no doubt a result of her recent marriage to CJ.

  “Yes, you have to tell us.” Nancy Bennett followed closely behind Molly. She glanced toward Edmund, smirked and leaned toward Lula May. “And why on earth didn’t you let Mr. McKay help you down?”

  The longing note in her voice caused Lula May a second wave of regret over her rudeness. She’d noticed Lucas didn’t extend much in the way of husbandly courtesies toward his new wife. Of course she could never say such a thing.

  “No reason. Just like to get down by myself. And why wouldn’t a gal smile on a fine Sunday morning like this?” She waved a hand toward the bright blue sky, where only a few fluffy clouds drifted along in the wind.

  “Uh-huh.” Molly traded a look with Nancy, and they giggled, reminding Lula May of the way her children had giggled last evening before supper.

  “Hush now.” She clicked her tongue. “You’ll embarrass Mr. McKay, and you know he’s a very private man.” Not to mention they shouldn’t incite Mrs. Hickey’s censure.

  “Uh-huh,” Molly repeated as the three of them joined other folks making their way toward the church tent.

  To Lula May’s relief, after her two friends greeted Pastor Stillwater and headed into the tent, they abandoned their teasing and took on more reverent demeanors as befitting a time of worship. Lula May did her best to do the same. But with Uncle’s visit looming over her, she feared she would spend more time in pleading with the Lord than in honoring and praising Him. This coming week—tomorrow, in fact—she would be faced with a problem almost as overwhelming as Frank’s illness and death because it also threatened all she held dear. She had no one to turn to but the Lord, and she prayed He would come through for her, and even more so for her children.

  * * *

  Pastor Stillwater’s sermon on forgiveness helped Edmund get over his annoyance with Lula May, but he still felt troubled by her behavior. After last night’s pleasant supper, he thought they’d continue their friendship, as good neighbors should. But her moodiness, her typical “just fine” remark seemed intended to keep him from extending even the simplest of courtesies toward her. He’d decided early on last week that her moodiness wasn’t his fault. Something was bothering her, but since she wouldn’t tell him what it was, what could he do?

  After deciding he would forgive and forget her snappiness, in fact act like it hadn’t even happened, he cou
ldn’t keep from glancing at her across the aisle between the two rows of benches that filled the church tent. Edmund didn’t know squat about women, but the way she bent her slender brown eyebrows into a frown shouted “worry.” He silently prayed that the Lord would help her out, whatever the problem was.

  In that moment, a familiar sensation took root in Edmund’s chest, a strong conviction of what the Lord wanted him to do. Despite his resolve not to intrude into Lula May’s life, he was to look out for her whether she wanted him to or not, just as the Lord had been urging him to do. Of course if he was clever enough, she wouldn’t even know he was doing it. Never having been a subtle person, Edmund had no idea how he’d accomplish such a feat. He supposed that, like everything else in his life, he’d need to rely on the Lord’s leading step by step.

  Chapter Six

  As if Uncle’s impending visit were not enough of a tempest about to slam into Lula May’s life, Monday morning a full-blown Texas summer rainstorm began to pound the High Bar Ranch. Black thunderclouds churned out of the west and over the prairie toward the rolling hills of her pasturelands, while lightning streaked across the darkening sky. Her older horses would have the good sense to take refuge beneath the ridge on the east side of the hills, and foals would stay with their mamas, but her untrained yearlings might head farther down into the arroyo. At this time of year and with this kind of storm, a flash flood could sweep them away in an instant.

  “Jacob, you take care of Pauline and Daniel.” Lula May tugged on her oldest boots and hat and her leather work gloves. “And you two mind your brother. Daniel, no foolishness, you hear me?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” her youngest son’s eyes were wide with fear. He hated storms, and her maternal instinct longed to hold him and rock him while the wind blew. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the luxury of time for such nurturing.

  “Jacob, you keep an eye out. If you see a tornado, head for the root cellar. Other than that, do not leave the house, no matter what happens.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Jacob stood up tall and straight. While she could see fear in his eyes, she also saw resolve. Last week had done a world of good for him. She owed Edmund more than a few good meals for making a man of her ten-year-old son.

  With a quick prayer for their safety, Lula May saddled up with Calvin and Samuel and headed out into the blinding rain to round up the herd. As expected, led by the wise old lead mare, the horses had gathered under the ridge, all except for four yearlings that had made a dash for the lowest area, an ancient riverbed that saw water only during a rare flash flood. Lula May told Calvin to use the extra rope they’d brought to make a temporary corral among the scrub trees in case the herd became frightened and decided to stampede. She and Samuel rode after the four yearlings and managed to rope three of the frightened animals and get them back to the herd. But one rascally colt eluded them.

  “You boys take care of these. I’m going back for that stray.” Lula May heard Calvin call out for her not to go, but she would not be deterred. Every horse equaled money that would provide for the family, and the obstinate colt she went after gave every sign of being an excellent cow pony once she got him trained. Saving him was worth the effort.

  Back at the lower ridge above the arroyo, she dismounted and tied Lady to a tree, then made her way down to the colt, rope in hand. He skittered away a few yards like he thought she meant to play a game, tossing his wet black mane and nickering.

  “Come on, beauty.” She raised her voice over the downpour. “Come to Mama. You’ll be glad you did.” She pulled a carrot from her trouser pocket and held it out.

  Just as he took a step toward her, a thunderous roar from the north drowned out all other sounds. The terrified colt shot up the slope just as a wall of water appeared some fifty yards up the arroyo, moving fast. Lula May clambered up the slippery slope but tangled her feet in the rope she’d brought to lasso the colt. Clawing desperately at the rocks, she struggled out of the rope but couldn’t gain a foothold.

  “Lord, help me!” She couldn’t even hear her own voice against the roar of the fast approaching flood.

  Something grabbed her arm. A hand. Two hands. Had Samuel or Calvin come to rescue her? All she knew for certain was that she was being dragged up the side of the arroyo, over the ridge and out of danger only seconds before the water’s furious onslaught swept by, carrying away trees and bushes as if they were twigs. Seated on the muddy bank, she even saw the floating remnants of an old wagon box left by long-ago pioneers, like many possessions discarded as people moved west.

  Only when she stood up with the help of her rescuer did she realize her hat and one of her boots were gone.

  “Oh, my.” She shook off her shock, stood and brushed wet hair from her face, then turned to greet... Edmund? “Where did you come from?”

  Even in the blinding rain as a torrent of water poured off the brim of his hat like a curtain, she could see his grin. “Just happened by. You see, I’ve got this ranch over the hill.” Pointing west, he shouted into the wind, but she heard the humor in his voice. “Was out for a ride this fine day when I noticed you were about to go for a swim.”

  She tried to laugh, but only a sob came out. “I see.” Her feet started to slip down the slope, and she grabbed his forearm to steady herself. He responded by grasping her upper arms and pulling her farther away from the churning arroyo. The strength of his grip sent a welcomed shock of warmth through her on this cold summer day.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She swept her stringy hair away from her face again. “Just fine. Gotta get back to my horses.”

  She marched past him toward her poor mare, who looked about as sad and bedraggled as any creature could. Only in that moment did Lula May realize she was crying. And she hadn’t even thanked Edmund for saving her life. She swung back around just in time to see him mount his horse and ride after the pesky colt that had almost cost her her life.

  * * *

  Even with the rain beating down on him and his pulse still racing wildly, Edmund couldn’t stop laughing at the picture in his mind: neat, tidy Lula May Barlow soaking wet, covered in reddish-gray mud, no hat, one boot missing. In spite of her condition, he had to admit she looked awful pretty. And he was getting used to her “just fine” claims. She seemed to say the words at the very moments when she was anything but just fine. If he hadn’t come along, she’d be halfway to Mexico by now, swept away in that deadly flash flood.

  His heart had nearly stopped when he saw the water headed her way as she tried to claw her way up that slickery ravine. Thank the Lord he’d been able to snatch her out of harm’s way. Now what else could he do to help her that wouldn’t be too obvious? Get that rascally colt, he supposed.

  After two attempts and a bit of chasing, he lassoed the yearling. The feisty animal had almost got Lula May killed, but he could see why she’d made the effort to save him. Good conformation, a gleam in his eye, a spirited nature. After Lula May trained him, Edmund might consider buying this one for his remuda. He’d be a good reminder of today’s adventure.

  Earlier, when the storm rose up, Edmund and his hands had headed out to see to his cattle so they wouldn’t stampede. The nine men working for him knew what to do in this kind of weather, so he hadn’t needed to give any special orders. Then, right in the middle of rounding up some mavericks scared by lightning, Edmund had felt the urge to check on Lula May. He’d left orders with his foreman, Abel, and then rode over to her place. Jacob told him where to find her, and since the boy was doing a fine job of taking care of the younger ones, Edmund hurried after their ma. He crossed the arroyo on Zephyr just in time to see her trying to scramble out of it, and he grabbed her hand, dug his boot heels into the rocky, soggy ground and held on for all he was worth as he pulled her up.

  If she’d been a stray calf, he would have done the same thing. But his heart wouldn’t still be pounding
over the near tragedy. He thanked the Lord he’d got her to safety. Those young’uns had already lost their pa. They needed their ma something fierce. And to his consternation, Edmund was beginning to feel a strange sort of kinship to the woman himself.

  Whoa! He had to stop that nonsense. She was a widow, a neighbor, someone the Lord wanted him to look after, like the Good Book said to do. But unless the Lord spoke out loud to him like He did to Moses at the burning bush, he had no intention of taking their friendship any further.

  * * *

  Once the storm passed and the horses were tended to, Lula May and the boys made their way back to the house. To her relief, the younger children were fine. In fact, they’d already fixed sandwiches for everyone. Even though the kitchen was a mess, they’d occupied themselves in a healthy way while she and their older brothers took care of business, just the way a family ought to operate. And one day soon, she’d make a cake for Edmund as a thank-you for saving her life.

  She sat down to eat her late lunch, ignoring the dryness of the ham salad Jacob had concocted. She washed it down with the bitter coffee Pauline had boiled. They both needed a few more lessons in the kitchen, but at times like this, having anything to eat was cause for thanks.

  She and the older boys hadn’t sat at the table for five minutes when she looked up at the wall clock. “Four fifteen! How did it get so late?” If the storm hadn’t held up the train, Uncle would be at the station by now, and he’d be furious over having to wait for her to pick him up.

  She jumped to her feet and headed for the back door, remembering to grab a random boot to replace her lost one. This one must be Jacob’s because it pinched her toes. “I’ll be back in a while. Gotta run to town.”