When Frank died, plunging her into widowhood, she had the comfort of knowing he’d left behind a respectable legacy. Nancy had no such comfort. From the guarded way she’d received Lula May, she probably feared all her friends would desert her. Lula May would have to show her that wasn’t true, at least not for herself.
The two women held each other for long minutes, sobbing softly in a shared grief.
“Let’s sit.” Lula May urged Nancy toward the two chairs that sat at angles to the cold fireplace. “Can I get you anything?”
Nancy shook her head and dabbed at her tears with a man’s linen handkerchief. Was it Lucas’s? Lula May recalled how she had used Frank’s handkerchiefs until they wore out just to have a piece of him close by.
“I didn’t know...never imagined...” Nancy’s eyes pleaded for understanding.
“Shh.” Lula May patted her friend’s hand. “We don’t have to talk about that.”
Nancy winced, and Lula May wondered whether she’d made a mistake. Maybe she should hear Nancy out. Talking about Frank had helped her. But again, this was a very different situation.
“I’m so ashamed about the horse,” Nancy said.
Lula May shrugged. “He’s back home safe and sound.” She swallowed the clog of tears in her throat. Edmund said the gelding had barely outrun a stampede and had some nicks on his hindquarters and shoulders where the long horns of the cattle had broken through his tough hide. Lula May wouldn’t mention it, though. Nancy had enough grief to carry. “The mare is doing fine, too. I’ll bring her back. I think her days as a cow pony are over, but she’ll make a good buggy horse.”
Nancy waved a dismissive hand. “You keep her.”
Lula May had no such intention, but she wouldn’t argue.
They spent the evening talking about the quilting bee, the plans for the church building, Nancy’s new Singer sewing machine that made such pretty, even stitches. Lula May suspected some of the folded bits of linen and cotton on the sewing table might be intended for baby clothes. A baby was a complication her friend surely did not need right now. Yet if the Lord had sent one, she needed to keep up her strength. Without mentioning her reasons, Lula May urged Nancy to eat a few bites of stew and half a biscuit. Then she helped her to bed.
Oddly, Lucas had slept down the hall in a separate bedroom. Lula May couldn’t think of sleeping there. How thoughtful of Mr. Snowden to bring a mattress from the barn. He’d left it on the front porch, and she had no difficulty dragging it into Nancy’s room so she could be nearby if her friend needed her during the night. The foreman had even brought the quilt he won in the church raffle. A bittersweet pang stung Lula May’s chest. When the quilting bee had made this one for the raffle, back before the cattle rustling started and the Carsons’ barn burned down, they’d all been enjoying more innocent times.
Early the next morning, her own maternal instincts called her home, but not until she’d encouraged Nancy—forced her, actually—to eat some breakfast. With great reluctance, she rode back to the High Bar Ranch, praying with every mile that passed that her friend would come through this horrible ordeal...somehow.
* * *
Edmund sat at the oval kitchen table eating breakfast. He’d intended to fix the meal for the children, but they’d beat him to it while he was out checking the stock before dawn. Calvin must have been paying attention to Lula May’s cooking, because the coffee he’d made was every bit as good as hers. Edmund used it to wash down the rest of his meal. Pauline’s biscuits had a dark brown crust on the bottom and a sticky middle, and Samuel’s fried eggs could have cooked a bit longer. Jacob’s bacon, sliced unevenly, was crisp on the thin parts and greasy on the thicker ones. Still, Edmund couldn’t have wished for anything finer. It was a long sight better than anything Mushy ever cooked up because of the love that had gone into the preparation.
After they’d all finished eating, Calvin took his pa’s Bible from a shelf by the table and handed it to Edmund. “Would you read a passage to help us start our day right?”
The other four children turned their full attention to Edmund, their eyes bright with interest. And maybe just a little fondness, if he wasn’t mistaken. He’d grown up eating in the kitchen because Judith couldn’t seem to stand the sight of him. Now it was his favorite room for eating, especially with this particular bunch of young’uns.
Unable to respond for the lump of emotion stuck in his throat, he took his time choosing a Scripture. If the oldest son in this family asked him to do this, if they all sat there so attentive, so trusting, that might just mean they truly wanted him to be their new pa. It was an honor he couldn’t quite fully grasp yet. Maybe that was because Lula May was missing from the family circle. And once she came home, this was what it would be like for the rest of his life, starting his day with family—his family, sharing good thoughts for the day before they all went in different directions to do their varied chores. God truly had blessed him beyond what he’d ever thought to ask for.
Finding his voice at last, he said, “I’d be pleased and proud to read to you. Here we are. Psalm 23. ‘The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.’” Over the top of the holy book, he saw the children mouthing the words of the familiar psalm along with him. They chimed in for the final verse. “‘Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.’”
“Are you gonna marry Ma?” Daniel piped up the second they finished.
Grins blossomed all around the table. Edmund had to clear his throat again. “I’d like to, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.” From the widening of his grin, the six-year-old seemed pleased to be consulted. “So that means you’ll live in our house forever.”
Edmund chuckled at the way he’d echoed the Bible verse. “I suppose—”
“That’s exactly what it means.” Lula May stood in the back doorway, her face lit with some strong feeling Edmund couldn’t discern.
His own emotions still high, he stood and, in two long strides, reached her and pulled her into his arms. A long sigh of relief escaped him. What was it about this woman that addled his brain, his emotions? He’d spent all his entire life shielding his heart from pain and rejection. Now his newly expanded heart could hardly contain the joy this family’s love created inside him.
“Lula May.” Still not used to having a woman in his arms, he nonetheless held her close, breathing in the faint smell of lilacs, his new favorite scent.
“Mmm?” She’d sagged against him and buried her face in his shirtfront. Oh, he could get used to this. In fact, had every intention of doing so.
“You all right?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She lifted her sweet face and gave him a weary smile.
He knew the children were watching. Knew they all had work to do. Knew he needed to get back to his own place. Knew he didn’t know much about kissing. But he couldn’t resist placing a kiss on Lula May’s nice plump lips. If her returning kiss—along with the agreeable hoots and cheers from her children—were any indication, he hadn’t done too bad a job.
* * *
“Excuse me.” Lula May accidentally bumped her left arm against Jacob’s right one as they sat around the breakfast table, which was crowded elbow to elbow.
“You’re excused.” Jacob, who was all smiles these days, as were his sister and brothers, swirled a forkful of pancake in his syrupy plate and devoured the bite. His elbow, still sharp with boyish boniness, dug into her upper arm. They really needed to do something about these seating arrangements.
At the other end of the table, Edmund dug into his stack of pancakes with an enthusiasm that did her heart good. For the past two weeks, he’d come over for breakfast several mornings a week, and with all the work they had to do on their respective ranches, any extra time spent with him made the inconvenience of the tight quarters worth it.
The last time Frank had sat with them for breakfast, the younger children had been much smaller. Now Edmund’s broad shoulders and her growing brood made the table a tad too small. In fact, whenever he entered the kitchen or even the parlor, the rooms seemed to shrink. Once he moved into the house after the wedding, and once the newness of their lives together wore off, would they all feel the pinch of the house’s size?
Later, as the children went in different directions to do their chores, Edmund lingered over another cup of coffee.
“Lula May, I’ve been thinking.”
“Uh-oh.” Standing at the stove straining bacon grease, she sent him a mock-worried glance over her shoulder. “What now?” His deep chuckle warmed her insides deliciously.
“That night you spent at Nancy Bennett’s and I slept in the boys’ room, I did some thinking.” He reached for another biscuit, then patted his belly and set it back on the plate. “I’ve been wondering how you would feel about building a bigger house for all of us, say where that stand of trees divides our properties.”
Her heart kicked up a notch, and she set down the cast-iron skillet and joined him at the table. “Can we afford it?”
As if surprised by her question, he blinked those intense green eyes. She loved it when he did that. “Hmm. I guess we ought to talk about money one of these days. In short, yes, we can afford it.” He snorted out a laugh. “Besides, have you seen that shack I live in? I never thought much about it, but lately I’ve noticed it’s not much to brag about.” He paused and stared down at his coffee. “Not meaning to brag at all, because every good thing I have has come from the Lord’s hands, and He’s seen fit to prosper me. Now I’m thinking that when we join our two ranches, we need to set an example. Need to invite folks over. Be hospitable. So we’d need a sizable house for that.” He set one callused hand over hers, and a warm spark shot up her arm. “What do you think?”
“Oh, Edmund, I would love that.” She glanced around the kitchen, taking a mental inventory of her pots, dishes and various utensils before another thought came to mind. “With the church building going so well, should we start another project before it’s finished?”
“I suppose we could wait. We’re both pretty good at waiting.”
“That’s what you think.” She huffed out a mock-indignant breath. “Whose idea was it to wait until the new church is built before we get married?”
He took on a pensive look that didn’t look entirely sincere. “Why, Miss Lula May, I do believe it was your idea. I thought our church tent was more than adequate, but you insisted we needed a building. But the tent’s served a number of couples quite well. Married is married, isn’t it?”
“Well...” Bittersweet memories swirled through Lula May’s mind. “After the ceremony, I suppose that’s true. But my first wedding was so...so plain and hurried.” She and Frank had married in the parlor of this house before a circuit judge. How she longed for a church wedding this time.
Edmund stood and pulled her up into his arms. “Lula May, I love you, and more than anything, I want you to be happy. We’ll have that church built in no time, and you and I will get hitched there with a proper wedding and reception afterward. Then we can think about our new house. After all, we have roundup coming soon, so I can’t spend any time on it now. Why don’t you draw up some plans about what you want, and we’ll hire an architect from Fort Worth or San Antonio. What do you think?”
She looped her arms around his neck. “I think you’re the most wonderful, thoughtful man in the world.”
“That so?” He waggled his eyebrows playfully, and she let herself giggle, just like Daisy Carson did when she eyed Calvin across the churchyard.
“Indeed it is.” And to prove her point, she reached up on tiptoes and gave him a heartfelt kiss. When he kissed her back with equal enthusiasm, she shut the door on her past and looked forward to a bright and joyful future with the man who loved her just as much as she loved him.
Long before she knew she loved Edmund and Edmund knew he loved her, God had planned for them to be together. When she finally decided on the Scripture verse for her life, part of John 15:16 seemed to suit her perfectly: “I have chosen you.” Like Jacob’s verse in Psalm 135, this one showed her how much she was loved because she’d been chosen, first by God, then by Edmund. No longer anybody’s second choice.
* * * * *
Don’t miss a single installment of
LONE STAR COWBOY LEAGUE:
THE FOUNDING YEARS
STAND-IN RANCHER DADDY
by Renee Ryan
A FAMILY FOR THE RANCHER
by Louise M. Gouge
A RANCHER OF CONVENIENCE
by Regina Scott
Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com.
Keep reading for an excerpt from WOLF CREEK WIFE by Penny Richards.
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Dear Reader,
Thank you for choosing A Family for the Rancher, Lula May and Edmund’s unlikely love story, which is the second book in Love Inspired Historical’s Lone Star Cowboy League: The Founding Years series. If you missed the first book last month, you’ll want to look for Stand-In Rancher Daddy by Renee Ryan. Next month, be sure to be on the lookout for A Rancher of Convenience by Regina Scott, which completes our three-book series.
A Family for the Rancher is my fifth Western novel for Love Inspired Historical. Coming from Colorado, I have long wanted to write about the American West, where many of our country’s values were solidified: faith, hard work and a belief in the American Dream. Although I never expected to write about Texas, I should have known the opportunity would present itself because two of my grandchildren were born in the great Lone Star State!
If you’d like to learn more about my books, please visit my website at blog.louisemgouge.com.
Blessings!
Louise M. Gouge
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Wolf Creek Wife
by Penny Richards
Chapter One
Wolf Creek, Arkansas, Early March 1887
Blythe Granville vaulted into the saddle and settled herself astride the horse, even though the action hiked up her skirts to show a shameful portion of ankle. Without so much as a glance at the scandalized young man who’d saddled the rented ma
re, she kicked the animal into a trot and headed out of town.
The Arkansas winter had been long, cold, wet and filled with shame, anger and melancholy. Today, Saturday, was the first day to hint at the promise of spring, the first to offer an escape from the strictures of her new life.
The feelings of unrest were new and totally unlike her. She’d always been the shy, quiet sister to her two brothers, Philip and Win Granville, and her half brothers, Caleb and Gabe Gentry—all self-assured, confident individuals who were successful in a variety of ways. She was the embarrassment of the family. The failure.
Even her mother, Libby Granville, was following her dream of opening a library. And to cap the climax, she’d recently accepted retired doctor Edward Stone’s marriage proposal. Her mother was marrying a man who adored her, while Blythe’s fledgling dreams of finding love were reduced to ashes and she was teaching school in a little town in Arkansas.
Her mother, who had been living in Wolf Creek for a while, and Win, who had moved there permanently near the end of December, had settled into their new lives just fine, but the slow pace of Wolf Creek was smothering what little spirit was left in Blythe after the recent debacle that destroyed her life and any future she’d hoped to have. Wolf Creek was a nice, quiet place to live and raise a family if you liked small, leisurely paced places, but she’d grown up in Boston and loved the hustle and bustle of the big city.
Nevertheless, here she was and here she’d stay, thanks to Devon Carmichael, with whom she’d eloped just after Thanksgiving, finally giving in to his constant pleas to marry him. Three days later, on the afternoon after they’d returned from their wedding, Philip, who’d hired a Pinkerton detective to look into Devon’s background, had confronted her with the news that her new husband was not Devon Carmichael, but one Wilbur Delaney. Not only had he lied about his background, he already had a legal wife hidden away somewhere. Devon, the man who had promised to be faithful to her for the rest of his life, was a bigamist, not to mention a liar and a thief.
A Family for the Rancher Page 22
