As soon as she said the last sentence, she wanted to call it back. How fussy and proper she sounded again! And it wasn’t up to her to dictate how long a father spent with his children in any case, she reprimanded herself.
He smiled. “I don’t think they’re going to take no for an answer,” he said, nodding toward where the girls were hopping from one foot to another now in barely concealed impatience.
“But—”
“You wouldn’t want to disappoint them, would you? I’m going to be in a heap of trouble if I have to tell them I couldn’t get you to agree.” He smiled so winningly that even the hardest-hearted woman couldn’t have refused.
“I—I... I’m sorry, Jack, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” She couldn’t tell him that she was worried about being too attracted to him. What other excuse would he believe? “It’s just that I’ve made it very plain with everyone in town that teaching is my life, now, and—”
“And two of your students have requested your company,” Jack completed her sentence for her, still smiling. “There’s no rule against that, is there? Haven’t you been invited to a meal with one of your pupils before?”
It was early in the school year, but Caroline had already had Sunday dinner at the Hallidays’ a week ago, and other families had spoken of inviting her also. It was an honor to have the schoolteacher eat with a family. But usually there were two parents present, not a handsome widowed father.
He gave her a considering look, as if he guessed the reason for her reluctance. “You’d be making two little girls very happy,” he said. “And spending the afternoon with a friend. We are friends, aren’t we? After our little talk the other night, I thought we were.”
She sighed, deciding to give in gracefully, though she squelched the happy feeling accepting gave her. She would have to be on her guard.
“Very well, Jack. On that basis, I will come. But we will have to stop at the house and let Mama know—she and Papa have already headed home.”
The pleasure that flashed across his eyes was reward enough. He brushed a hand across his forehead in exaggerated relief. “Whew! I don’t know how I would have told them if you hadn’t agreed.”
She couldn’t stop her lips from curving upward. “I certainly wouldn’t want to do anything to upset those sweet girls, Jack.” And if she enjoyed Jack’s pleased grin as much as the thought of the girls’ smiles, she kept it to herself.
* * *
It only took a few minutes for them to walk down to the hotel. During this time Jack was surprised by an unexpected feeling of completeness. The four of them looked like a family, if one didn’t know better. A man and his wife and their two daughters.
It was the first time he had gone anywhere with a female since his wife had died.
Abby and Amelia clearly adored Caroline, and they looked as if they were thriving under the Wallaces’ care. They wore two different dresses, one yellow, one pink, which had apparently been retrieved from Caroline’s old ones and freshened up. They skipped along the boardwalk just ahead of their father and Caroline, past the post office, the jail and the mercantile.
The restaurant was reached through the hotel lobby. It was obviously a popular place on Sunday afternoons, for most of the tables were full. But one stood empty in the bay window that faced Main Street, so they were shown there by the waitress, a pleasant-faced older woman in an apron.
“Well hello, Miss Caroline,” the woman said, while glancing at Jack and the girls with open curiosity. “It’s good to see you! It’s been a long time since you were in here...”
Her voice trailed off, and she looked flustered.
Perhaps the last time Caroline had dined in the hotel, Pete had been her escort.
“And this must be Mr. Collier and his twins.”
Truly, there were no secrets in a small town, Jack thought.
“Well, it’s busy as a barefoot boy on a red anthill in here, so I’d best get down to business,” the woman said. “Our special today is chicken an’ dumplings.”
They all chose the special, and the waitress bustled away.
“I see you have new dresses, girls,” Jack said. “You both look very nice.”
“They were Aunt Caroline’s when she was our age,” Abby informed him.
“You should see all the clothes Grandma Wallace has in that trunk we can wear,” crowed Amelia. “And she’s makin’ us new ones alike. Some in red calico, and some in green gingham.”
“Hopefully by the time Mama has the identical dresses made, I’ll have learned to tell them apart,” Caroline said.
“Oh, that’s easy, Aunt Caroline,” Amelia said. “Abby has a scar on her forehead from when she fell outa the swing under the tree back home. I don’t. I never fall out of swings.”
Caroline leaned over and peered closely at the spot Amelia indicated. “Why, thank you, Amelia. I never noticed that. That’s very helpful.”
Jack saw Abby scowl at her sister. “Why’d you tell? Now we can’t change places at school.”
“You aren’t playing the twin games on your teacher, are you, girls?” Jack said, knowing Abby, especially, liked to pass responsibility on to her more compliant twin.
“No, Papa,” Amelia said, while Abby had the grace to look a little shamefaced.
“So how do you like being the teacher, Miss Caroline?” Jack asked, after he could think of no more brilliant conversational gambit.
“I enjoy it very much,” Caroline said. “Of course, I’m fortunate that I can live at home. Many schoolteachers have to board with one of the students’ families, and from the stories Miss Phelps told me—she was the schoolteacher who just left to be a missionary—that wasn’t always pleasant. At one of the homes where she boarded, the little boy left a frog in her bed.”
The twins squealed in gleeful terror. Jack chuckled.
“Of course, growing up with Dan, I’m used to such pranks, and frogs don’t scare me,” Caroline said, giving the girls a meaningful look.
“And they pay you fairly?”
“Sixteen dollars a month,” Caroline said proudly. “Of course, I give most of it to Mama to help with the household expenses.” She shrugged. “My needs are few.”
He had no experience with a woman who wanted nothing for herself. Even his Lucinda, who’d been quite content with her lot as a ranch wife, had prized her few knickknacks and the onyx earbobs he’d given her one Christmas. Bringing her a dress-length of calico from the general store had made her whoop and hug him.
But he could not imagine Lucinda working for a living, if something had happened to him, as Caroline was doing.
Caroline held a very honorable position as the town schoolteacher. Even while Jack had been kept busy with introductions after church, he’d noticed a dozen parents coming up to greet her, their children in tow. She’d been the recipient of friendly smiles and nods as they’d entered the restaurant, too. It had made him stand a little taller at her side and realize he’d been more than a little lucky to have placed his children with her family.
He wished he’d been the one to meet her first, not Pete.
The thought made guilt wash over him like a cold, wet blanket. Surely it did not speak well of him that he was envying the love his dead brother had found with this woman. But what if Pete had never met her, and Jack had been the one to find that advertisement the Spinsters’ Club had placed? Would he have had the gumption to come up and meet the ladies, as Pete had done?
Their dinners came then, and he stopped speculating, at least for now.
The twins had seized their forks, and Jack was about to dig into the savory-smelling chicken and dumplings when Caroline caught his attention.
“Do you mind if we pray first, Jack?”
He shook his head, wondering if he was automatically expected to give the blessing as the only man at the table. Caroline bowed her head. Quickly,
Jack gestured for his daughters to do likewise and bowed his own head.
Then Caroline began to speak. “Heavenly Father, we thank You for this tasty meal and ask that You bless it to the nourishment of our bodies. We thank You for the opportunity to spend some time together, and pray that You give Jack and his men strength and good weather so that they may build their dwelling quickly.”
He’d never seen anyone pray so easily outside of a church. If he’d been a good father, grace before meals would have been a rule. He’d grown lax since his wife had died and especially on this trail drive, allowing the girls to adopt the careless manners of his drovers. He’d been brought up better than that by a godly mother, learned Bible stories at her knee and been baptized in the closest creek by the local preacher. It all slipped away so easily, if one didn’t pay attention.
He noticed Caroline automatically moved to help the girls tuck their napkins into the neckline of their dresses before they started eating, too. Well, it made good sense and made life easier for whoever did the laundry, didn’t it? But it also struck him as such a motherly thing to do.
Perhaps he could learn a few things from Caroline without her knowing he hadn’t been doing them, and therefore thinking less of him.
Would he be able to find a lady in Montana who was as good to his children as Caroline was? She was a natural mother, he mused, and didn’t even realize it.
* * *
Their stomachs filled, they returned to the meadow and boarded the wagon. The twins sat in the bed of the wagon, while Caroline sat next to him on the driver’s bench.
“Papa, is it far to your ranch?” Abby asked.
“About five miles, Punkin,” he said, guiding the wagon back onto the road. “But remember, it’s not my ranch. It’s just a place where the men and I are keeping the herd until the weather’s good enough to drive them to Montana. Then you’ll be coming to join me up there.” Somehow that no longer felt as exciting as it once had.
He glanced over his shoulder as the horse began to trot back down Main Street toward the road that led south. Abby looked distinctly mutinous at his words.
“I think we should stay here, Papa. We like Simpson Creek,” Abby said, her lower lip jutting out pugnaciously.
“Yeah,” Amelia said.
He knew better than to point out they’d only been in Simpson Creek for a few days. “Simpson Creek is nice, but just wait till you see Montana Territory, girls,” he said with all the enthusiasm he could muster. “There’s big, tall mountains, huge pine forests, snow deeper than you are tall—think of the snowball fights you can have!”
Another glance behind revealed uncomprehending faces. Of course—the girls had never seen snow in south Texas. He hadn’t, either, until he’d been on campaign with Hood during the first part of the war, though he hadn’t had much time for snowball fights then. Then he’d been furloughed home to recover from a wound, and while he was home his wife died, so he had never returned to the war. There’d been no one else to care for his children.
“There’s mountains here, Papa,” Amelia said, pointing at the distant blue hills.
“Those? Why, those are just anthills compared to the mountains in Montana,” he said, then realized his words sounded disparaging. “No offense, Miss Caroline,” he said quickly.
“None taken,” she said. Her face was serene under her black-trimmed spoon bonnet.
“Those hills are nice to look at, right enough,” he said, still feeling as if he needed to apologize. “And I like the trees around here.” He indicated a stand of liveoaks and pecan trees they were passing. “Why, at home, there’s pretty much just scrub mesquite and cactus, and it’s so flat. This land kinda rolls,” he added. They were going up a gentle grade around a curve now. “Yes, it’s pretty country here.”
She looked amused, as if she knew full well he was trying to pull his foot out of his mouth. “Just wait till spring, when the fields and roadsides are full of bluebonnets and all kinds of other flowers—yellow, orange, pink and purple. You’ll still be here when it starts.”
“You like it here.”
She shrugged. “I’ve never been very far from Simpson Creek in all my life. It’s what I know.”
“Haven’t you ever wanted to see other places?” he asked curiously.
She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll travel someday.”
She faced straight ahead, so he could see very little of her face because of the scooped sides of the bonnet. Her voice was carefully neutral, as if she didn’t mind one way or the other. Could that really be the truth?
He glanced once more into the back. The twins were singing a little song as they played cat’s cradle with a bit of string they’d found in the wagon bed.
They were silent for a mile or so. “This must be a very familiar road to you, since your friend lives next to the Waters ranch,” he said, trying another conversational gambit.
She nodded. “Yes, I’d borrow Papa’s horse and ride out to see Milly and Sarah when we were girls growing up.”
They fell silent again after that. The quiet was broken only by the horse’s clip-clopping along the dusty road and the screech of a crow commenting on their passing. Jack stole occasional sidelong glances at the self-contained woman in black beside him, but Caroline seemed content to watch the scenery and glance backward once in a while at the twins.
He wondered what she was thinking. Was she glad she had chosen to come with them, or wishing she had stayed home? He wished he was more of a brilliant conversationalist so he could draw her out, win one of her rare smiles. Then when he caught himself thinking such nonsense, he told himself it made no sense. Caroline Wallace wasn’t interested in courting—not anyone, but especially not her dead fiancé’s brother—or leaving her little town to go to Montana with him and the girls.
Was the woman he would marry already in Montana, waiting for him to come and discover her? Maybe she’d be blonde, with riotously curling golden hair and big blue eyes, or a redhead, whose fiery mane would complement green cats’ eyes, completely unlike the woman beside him with her neat brown hair and eyes the color of the Arbuckle’s coffee Cookie made. The woman he would meet in Montana would dress in flowery, feminine fabrics, not harsh black.
“When are we going to get there, Papa?” Amelia asked, bringing him back to his present surroundings with a jolt.
“We’re almost there, Punkin. That’s the neighboring ranch,” he said, pointing to the entrance gate of the Brookfield Ranch. “The very next place is the Waters Ranch, where we’re staying.”
“Perhaps you ought to give the place a new name,” Caroline suggested, as they turned off the road and passed the faded “Waters Ranch” sign. “The old owners are gone, after all.”
He shrugged. “I would, if I was going to settle there, instead of just roosting there for the winter.”
“Colliers’ Roost, then?” she suggested, her lips curving upward.
So the woman did have a sense of humor. He tried not to be too pleased at seeing her smile.
By now he could see the men clustered around the beginnings of the bunkhouse. It looked as if they had been hard at work, for the frame was thigh-high with logs that had been trimmed to fit and rounded off on the ends. The mud chinking between the logs would be added last. He was pleased to see they hadn’t been idle in his absence.
“Is that your new house, Papa?” Abby asked.
“When will it be finished, Papa? Can we stay there, too?” Amelia chimed in.
“Hopefully it’ll be done within a couple of weeks, and no, it won’t be nearly nice enough for you girls to stay there, just good enough for a bunch of rowdy cowboys to get in out of the cold,” Jack told them with a wink. He wondered if Caroline disapproved of his men laboring on the Sabbath.
She didn’t look critical, however, just interested. “They’ve gotten a good start, haven’t they?” she commented. The approving
way she said it pleased Jack.
They’d been spotted, and the men were laying down their hammers and saws and waving. Raleigh came forward, shading his eyes against the sun.
“Hi, Mr. Raleigh!” chorused Abby and Amelia.
“Well, howdy, girls, boss. Ma’am,” he added, touching the brim of his hat.
“Miss Caroline, this is Raleigh Masterson, my ramrod. Raleigh, Miss Caroline Wallace. She was Pete’s fiancée.”
Raleigh’s face sobered. “I’m right sorry about your loss, Miss Wallace. Nice that the girls could stay with you and your parents.”
Not waiting for permission, the girls jumped over the side and went running over to Raleigh. “Well, it’s only fair to warn you,” he said, grinning as he hugged them, “they’re an ornery pair, and that’s a fact.”
“I’ll take your warning very seriously, Mr. Masterson,” she said, her face mock-solemn as the girls flung their arms around the young man.
“Don’t hurt my right-hand man, girls—I need to get some more work out of him,” Jack said with a grin. “The beeves doing all right, Raleigh?”
“Right as rain, boss. They seem to like it here. They’re watering at the creek right now.”
Cookie was walking toward them, his crabbed, awkward gait making his bowlegs all the more apparent. He’d been quite a cowboy in his heyday, Jack knew, until a horse he was riding fell, then rolled on him, nearly crippling the man.
“Afternoon, boss, ma’am.”
Jack made introductions again and made his voice carry loud enough that the men working on the cabin could hear.
“Would you like a bottle of sarsaparilla, Miss Wallace?” Cookie asked. “I know the girls will. Raleigh fetched us some supplies, so I had him get us a few bottles for when the twins visit.”
The Rancher's Courtship & Lone Wolf's Lady Page 8
