A Family for the Rancher

by Louise M. Gouge

  Edmund had a hunch he knew what was coming. He gave her another nod of encouragement and picked up his coffee cup to occupy his hands so he wouldn’t clench them into fists.

  “When I left, I—I took the necklace. I mean, it truly was mine, but I have no proof.”

  A vague tickle crept up the back of Edmund’s neck. “What do you mean was yours?”

  “When Frank got sick, I sold it to pay off the ranch.”

  “Whew.” Edmund blew out a long breath. “Must have been a mighty nice necklace.” And expensive. He shrugged. “Sounds like the Lord provided it for a good purpose.” Too bad she couldn’t have that fancy gewgaw back to remember her ma by.

  “You don’t understand. Floyd has threatened to have me arrested for stealing it.”

  “What?” Edmund set down his cup with a bit too much force, clattering it into the saucer and sloshing some of the contents onto the tablecloth. “Why, that no account—” He bit back his temper. No use in getting riled when he just needed to hear her out and see what he could do to help.

  “But he did have another solution.” Lula May laughed bitterly. “He said he would take ownership of the ranch. All I have to do is turn the deed over to him.”

  “That’s no surprise.” Maybe no surprise, but just as crooked as a dog’s hind leg. “Where’s the deed now?”

  “Hidden where he’s not likely to find it.”

  “That’s good.” Edmund wouldn’t ask where she’d hidden it. “So now we just have to prove the necklace belonged to you.”

  Lula May got a funny look on her face. “So you don’t think I’m a thief?”

  “A thief?” Edmund sat back and stared at her. “Not a bit. If the necklace was yours, you had the right to sell it. As for Floyd Jones, any man with any sense can see he’s a crook and a shyster. Anybody would believe you over him any day.”

  She slumped back in her chair, her mouth hanging open like she didn’t believe him, but still looking pretty as a daisy. “Honest?”

  He had to laugh. She sounded like one of the young’uns. Sounded surprised that he believed her. “Honest. And I think the first thing we need to do is to talk to Sheriff Fuller.”

  “Oh, no!” She grasped his hand across the table, and her eyes widened with fear. “Please. You mustn’t. Floyd’s lawyer is arriving tomorrow, and Floyd says he has evidence to prove I stole the necklace.”

  “What kind of evidence?”

  “I don’t know. Probably Grandma’s will. Floyd claims she disowned Mama and never would have given her a leftover biscuit, much less a valuable necklace. I don’t have anything to prove otherwise.” She released his hand. “Promise me you won’t speak to the sheriff.”

  Edmund thought for a bit. This situation could get serious real soon with some city lawyer causing Lula May trouble. They should tell the sheriff, but her desperation held him back. “Against my better judgment, I promise.”

  “Thank you.” She sighed real deep and sank back into her chair. “The last thing I need is more trouble. I’d rather solve my problems myself. Though I would appreciate your prayers. Sometimes I feel like the Lord is so far away, He can’t hear me.”

  “I’m already praying.” She had no idea how much he prayed for her and her family. “Sure do hate to see you suffer under your uncle’s thumb.”

  He pondered the situation for a moment before risking another thought. “You remember a few weeks ago when Pastor Stillwater gave a sermon about suffering?” She nodded. “Not that I mean to preach or anything, but like the pastor pointed out, our suffering doesn’t mean the Lord has abandoned us. He’s never closer than when we’re in need.” He took a deep breath before continuing. The last thing he wanted to do was make Lula May think he was questioning her faith. “Have you talked to the Lord about your uncle?”

  “Oh, yes.” She nodded again, this time giving him a sweet smile he felt deep down inside. “The Lord finally answered. Or maybe I should say, I finally heard the answer He sent two weeks ago. That’s why I’m sitting here with you.”

  Warm satisfaction filled his chest. This was further confirmation that he was supposed to watch over her. “I’m honored that you think so.” Even so, that didn’t solve her problem. Outwitting Floyd would take some mighty clever maneuvering.

  They sat quietly for another minute or two. More customers entered the café and took seats far enough away not to hear Edmund and Lula May’s conversation. Probably had their own private matters to talk about.

  “You want something to eat?” He glanced over the table where a menu hung on the wall.

  “No. This was enough.” She poked her sweet roll and gave a little grimace.

  Edmund forced away a grin. Most other folks seemed to enjoy Mercy’s cooking, but he’d found someone else who didn’t.

  Lula May leaned toward him and spoke softly. “I never dreamed Floyd would follow me out here. How did he even know where I live? Or when Frank died?” She huffed in frustration. “Why, he even knew Lucas Bennett’s first name, even though I didn’t say it when I introduced them. Makes me wonder what else he knows about our friends.”

  Another prickle teased at the back of Edmund’s neck. “Huh. That is mighty strange.” He pondered the mystery for a moment. Mostly he wanted to figure out how they could prove Floyd’s claim to the necklace was false. But what about his knowing Lucas’s first name? In the back of his mind, Edmund wanted to give the old man a good thrashing for being so mean to Lula May. ’Course, that wouldn’t solve anything and probably would land Edmund in jail.

  Watching helplessly at the despair in Lula May’s face and posture, he sent up a prayer for the Lord’s help to calm down. Just as when they’d spent those relaxing evenings in her parlor with all of the young’uns around, he sensed a growing measure of peace fill him. Along with it came an unexpected realization. He cared about Lula May. Cared a whole heap. He wouldn’t call it love because he had no idea what love was. Mainly he felt like somebody had lassoed something deep inside him and tugged him toward her, causing him to want to do whatever it took to make her safe from her uncle and any other trouble that came her way, like when he’d pulled her out of that arroyo before the flash flood could carry her off to Mexico. He couldn’t stand to think of anything bad happening to her. Or the young’uns, either.

  Something scratched at his mind. Something he’d just read the other day in A Tale of Two Cities. A dissolute lawyer, Sydney Carton, loved Lucie Manette and promised to “embrace any sacrifice for you and those dear to you.” Little did Sydney know that promise meant one day he would take her husband’s place and die on the guillotine, a “far, far better thing to do than I have ever done,” all for the sake of his love for Lucie.

  Edmund had never been spontaneous. He’d learned at a young age to think things through before taking action. But in this case, just like at the arroyo last week, he knew in an instant what he needed to do, knew the sacrifice he must make, and he needed to do it before he lost his courage. He reached across the table, reclaimed her hand and spoke to her in a hushed, hurried tone.

  “Lula May, let’s get married.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Lula May didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or get up and walk out on Edmund McKay. Marry him? The very idea!

  But as she looked up into that broad, handsome, sincere face, she knew she could do none of those things. His shadowed green eyes exuded a deep, kind earnestness, and laughing might deeply wound him. She’d already done enough crying, so more tears would be pointless. And walking out on one of the most decent, selfless men she’d ever met beside Papa and Frank? She would never insult him that way. But neither could she agree to marry him, as dear as he’d become to her over these past two weeks, something she hadn’t realized until this moment.

  “If we were married, Floyd Jones wouldn’t dare tangle with me.”

&nbs
p; Edmund gave her that winsome crooked grin, but his eyes held a hint of sorrow, not the joy Lula May had seen in CJ’s eyes when he married Molly. Edmund might like her, might believe in her, but he sure didn’t love her. Instead, his proposal was intended as a protection for her at the sacrifice of the solitude he held so dearly. Lula May truly was moved.

  Frank had told her to marry again because he knew the children would need a father. She’d promised to obey him, mostly to please him and give him peace as he died. Yet in the back of her mind, she had already decided she would never marry again unless the man loved her for herself and believed in her. Frank might have believed in Lula May, but he had never stopped loving Emily. And Lula May wouldn’t mind being in love herself, if she could be as happy as her good friend Molly was with CJ. Over these past two weeks, Lula may had come to like Edmund a great deal, but...

  “What do you say?” Edmund gave her hand another squeeze.

  “I say thank you.” She gently slid her hand from his grasp. “That’s a mighty fine and generous offer, but I can’t accept. I’ll have to work this out some other way if I want to get Floyd out of my life for good.”

  She expected to see relief in his eyes, but he seemed more surprised than pleased. Still, he took her response with a brisk nod.

  “All right, then, we’ll have to figure out something else.”

  Hope sprang up inside her, shoving aside the desperation she’d increasingly felt since Uncle’s first letter arrived weeks ago. Edmund truly was an answer to her prayers for help. She no longer had to go it alone. As hard as it was to receive his help, she must, for the children’s sakes. In fact, it would feel good to have a friend beside her. “That’s an offer I will accept.”

  “Good.” He thumped his fist on the table like a judge bringing down a gavel. The heavy china plates and cups clattered like a round of applause. “Now, let’s head on back home. I got some young’uns to ride herd on, and you have an uncle to outwit.”

  Laughing more freely than she had in a long time, she gave her cheeks one last swipe with her napkin, then stood. “You go on ahead. I have Lucas’s old mare, and I don’t want to hold you back.”

  “What?” Edmund rose, too. “What are you doing with his mare?”

  Suddenly reminded of his impressive masculine height, she spoke a bit breathlessly as she explained the deal she’d made with Lucas.

  “And he still didn’t have the money to pay you today?” Anger rekindled in his eyes. “Lula May, I don’t think—”

  “Don’t worry.” She couldn’t let him fight all of her battles. “He’s good for it. I’m sure he’s good for it.”

  A low growl was his only answer as he took her elbow and accompanied her out of the café.

  * * *

  As he rode home at a canter, Edmund wasn’t entirely sure what had happened back there at the café. He’d plunged into the marriage proposal feeling like he was headed for the guillotine. And yet her refusal left a gaping hole in his chest. Hardly the reaction of a man who’d been saved from certain death, at least death to his life of comfortable solitude. Was that love? He had no idea. All he knew was that he wanted to spend the rest of his years on this earth taking care of Lula May. In spite of her independent spirit, not only was her uncle about to steal her home, but Lucas had cheated her out of one of her finest cow ponies. She needed protection, and those young’uns need a pa. How could he convince her he was the man for both of those jobs? When had he decided he even wanted them? Probably the moment when she finally broke down and admitted things were not “fine, just fine.” Instead, she’d opened up to him, sharing the deepest pain in her heart. That kind of trust meant the world to Edmund.

  Still, from Lula May’s rejection, he could tell he hadn’t done something right. What was it? He could tell she liked him, respected him. Maybe even depended on him more than she realized. What could he have done different? What more could he have said? Did he need to change some habit? Something about his appearance? Not that Lula May had asked him to change. She’d simply turned him down flat. Yet he must lack some quality she thought was important. Whatever it was, she was worth the trouble of figuring it out.

  Maybe that was love. In fact, he was sure of it. That being the case, he’d have to prove to Lula May that he loved her enough to try to win her love in return. An unfamiliar excitement filled his chest. This was a bigger, more important challenge than any he’d ever undertaken. He had no doubt at all that he was up to it.

  Funny how just two weeks ago he’d thought Lula May was like his cousin Judith. Nothing could be further from the truth. Or could it be? As a boy growing up in a home where he wasn’t wanted, he’d never considered anything beyond Judith’s constant anger at him. But he also recalled hearing her crying from time to time. Hard, bitter tears not entirely different from those Lula May shed not an hour ago because of the helplessness she felt against the onslaught of troubles in her life.

  Judith had been widowed early in the war and left with four young’uns. She’d taken in sewing to survive and later received a small pension from the Union army for her husband’s service as an enlisted man, not enough to feed and clothe her young’uns. That couldn’t have been easy for her. Then another hungry boy was placed in her care and her burden got heavier. No wonder she was angry all the time and never had a kind word for Edmund. He’d seen that same kind of anger and snappishness in Lula May that morning when he went to invite Jacob to the Young Ranchers’ Club. The Lord had sent Edmund to help Lula May with her troubles. Who had been there to help Judith? No one other than an elderly cook with rheumatiz who’d stuck around because she had no other place to go.

  For the second time in the space of a half hour, Edmund was struck with an important realization. Judith and Lula May were alike after all. He’d seen pretty quick why Lula May wore that chip on her shoulder. Now he finally understood Judith. Words from Pastor Stillwater’s sermon on forgiveness came back to mind. And in the blink of an eye, Edmund forgave Judith, truly and completely forgave her, just like Old Gad had encouraged him to do years ago. The burden of bitterness Edmund had carried for most of his thirty-three years rolled off his chest just like a stone rolling down a mountainside.

  And he felt a jubilant freedom much akin to the joy he’d felt when the Lord Jesus came into his life. He shouldn’t have waited so long to put the matter to rest.

  Edmund arrived at his ranch to find the Young Ranchers, both boys and girls, engaged in a treasure hunt overseen by Abel, his foreman, whose name was specially fitting today. As Abel explained it, instead of the girls against the boys, he’d formed several teams, partnering older young’uns with the littler ones to find “treasures.” Those treasures were tools, tack and other essentials used on the ranch. The teams had to find each one and then write down where it was kept and what it was used for. The team to finish first and have all the right answers got twice as many of Mushy’s molasses cookies as the other team, not to mention bragging rights. And of course the candy Edmund had promised to bring.

  “Good idea.” He clapped Abel on the shoulder and headed toward the barn.

  Pauline broke away from her brothers and ran to greet him, throwing her arms around him like he was a long-lost friend. At least that’s what it felt like to Edmund, and he’d fight any man who claimed otherwise. He couldn’t help giving her a squeeze in return.

  “Mr. McKay,” the little redhead chirped like a robin in springtime. “You’re coming to supper tonight, right?”

  Right behind her, Daniel and Jacob and, now that he saw them, just about all of the children had gathered, their treasure hunt forgotten. Every single one of them grinned up at him like they shared a secret. Matchmaking, that’s what they were doing. Only thing was, this time Edmund didn’t mind in the least.

  “I’d planned on it.”

  His answer brought a chorus of giggles and nudges among the group. He sho
ok his head. “Don’t you think you’d better get back to your hunt? Don’t want to miss out on the cookies and candy.”

  They quickly scattered, almost falling all over themselves to resume their game. All except Jacob Barlow.

  “May I take care of Zephyr for you, Mr. McKay?” The boy stared at Edmund’s stallion with admiration. Not tall enough yet to reach the horse’s back to remove the heavy saddle, he still appeared confident he could manage the job.

  “Let’s see how you do.” Edmund handed the reins over to him and followed boy and horse into the barn. Zephyr turned his large head and gave him a look that could be called quizzical. Edmund returned a nod and a pat on the animal’s rump.

  Speaking in a soothing voice, Jacob urged Zephyr into the stall and secured the reins to the board. Keeping an eye on the horse’s hooves, he lifted the left stirrup over the saddle, released the girth, moved around to the other side, reached under and grabbed the girth and secured it to the saddle with the cinch. He lifted the saddle, grunting at the weight, and it slid to the stall floor. The saddle pad also fell into the dirt. Jacob gave Edmund an apologetic smile.

  “Could use a little help.”

  Edmund swallowed a chuckle. Old Gad never laughed at him, and Edmund wouldn’t laugh at Jacob. “Sure thing.” He lifted the saddle, giving a little grunt of his own for Jacob’s sake, and carried it outside the stall to air on the saddle rack. By the time he returned, Jacob had brushed off the saddle pad and hung it upside down on the side of the stall. Now he was brushing Zephyr, who contentedly munched oats in his feed box.

  “Looks like you have this under control.”

  “Yessir.” Jacob beamed at the compliment.

  The boy had changed a good deal in the past two weeks. Had gained a lot of confidence. Edmund would make sure Floyd Jones never had a chance to take that away from him.