He quickly doffed his hat. “Mrs. Cutter.”
“Kate,” she corrected. “Mrs. Cutter is my mother-in-law.”
She and her husband shared an amused glance. “Where’s this filly you want me to parade? I have tea cakes waiting to be frosted.”
Jack and Noah entered the corral and herded the horses until they could approach the appaloosa. Noah grabbed the lead, opened another gate and led the animal into the connecting corral. Wooden steps sat in the dust, and Kate climbed to the top, then waited for her husband to walk the horse alongside.
She mounted and walked the filly inside the boundary of the enclosure. Jack liked the way the horse responded, appreciated its form from all angles. “This will be a fine horse for Daniel.”
A commotion caught their attention, and all three turned to observe the carriage that had drawn into the dooryard. One by one, colorfully dressed women stepped down, holding their skirts aside with gloved hands.
“Oh drat! They’re here and I haven’t dressed.” From atop the horse, Kate waved to her friends. “Ladies! I’ll be there in a moment.”
The women wore billowing dresses of varying hues, styles and patterns, plumed hats of all shapes and sizes, pristine white or delicate pastel gloves and dainty satin shoes. One by one, they spotted their friend and carefully made their way toward the corral, gingerly holding their skirts aside to avoid weeds and holes.
“Look at Katy!”
“Kate, you’re a natural.”
“Noah, have you put her to work, breaking the horses?”
The women laughed among themselves and continued onward.
Jack recognized only Diana Sweetwater, whom he’d met at the elementary school both of their sons attended. None of the other faces were familiar.
Noah helped his wife dismount, then tethered the horse to the fence, and the three of them exited the corral.
“Come meet my friends,” Kate said, gesturing for Jack to follow.
He did so reluctantly, immediately encompassed by a fragrant cloud of exotic floral scents, strikingly contrary to the barn and corral smells to which he was accustomed.
“Ladies, meet Jack Easton. This is Annie Carpenter. Her husband, Luke, runs the livery.”
“Ma’am.” Jack knew the livery owner.
“And Diana Sweetwater. They’re sister-in-laws.”
“We’ve met,” Diana said with a friendly smile.
Kate continued. “This is Pamela Stevenson and Lizzie Halverson. Janie Barnett. And this is Charmaine Renlow. Charmaine and Annie are cousins.”
“Are you confused yet?” Charmaine asked with a twinkle in her blue eyes. Jack thought he detected a slight Southern accent. Charming dimples winked from her cheeks when she smiled. She wore a light green dress with a ruffled collar and hem and had artfully arranged a matching ribbon through her blond curls. When she moved, her sparkling emerald earbobs swung. She carried a napkin-draped basket over her forearm.
“Not at all,” he replied. “Pleased to meet you—er—all of you.”
“You’ll join us for refreshments, of course,” Kate said.
Jack opened his mouth to decline. He’d be more comfortable thrown into a pit of rattlesnakes, but the ladies smiled encouragement and nodded vigorously, sending long colorful feathers swaying.
Kate placed a hand on her husband’s arm. “Give me half an hour to finish the tea and frost the cakes and then bring Jack to the house.”
Jack watched them go, bemused at their chatter and dumb-founded at their fragrances and fresh appearances.
“They’re something, aren’t they?” Noah adjusted his hat.
The sight of that many fancified women was an oddity for certain, but Jack drew his attention back to their business. He had a horse to buy.
“What have you brought?” Annie asked Charmaine. The two of them had hurried into the kitchen to help Kate finish the refreshments while the rest of the ladies seated themselves in the dining room and chattered.
“My sponge lilies,” Charmaine replied.
“You’ve outdone me at my own tea party,” Kate said with a grin.
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Charmaine whisked the basket from the counter to stow it away.
Kate grasped it by the handle and got it away from her. “I was only teasing. Goodness knows I can use all the help I can get with this fancy stuff.”
“Where are Rose and little Levi?” Annie asked.
“Marjorie took them for the morning.” Marjorie was the wife of the ranch foreman, and she helped with the house and garden. “Levi and her boy Fuller nap together, and Rose helps her garden. I appreciate my morning alone, and I keep Fuller for her whenever need be.”
Annie nodded. “My mornings when my mother has the children are a godsend. Not that I don’t adore the little darlings.”
Charmaine heard the pleasure in their voices. Their families were everything she’d ever wanted. At twenty-two, Charmaine was the last unmarried woman over the age of seventeen in Copper Creek.
“Sometimes I despair that I’ll never have what you two possess,” she confided to her cousin and her friend.
For the past four years, she’d been seeing Wayne Brookover. Wayne had apprenticed for the druggist and now ran the apothecary, but so far no marriage proposal had been forthcoming. “Every time I think Wayne is ready to take the step, the moment passes in burning disappointment.”
Kate turned to her with an expression Charmaine couldn’t decipher, but Annie wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She and Annie had been closer than most sisters their whole lives. Annie had always come to stay at the Renlows’ whenever her parents traveled. Back then, her parents had considered Annie an invalid, but because of her husband, Luke, Annie had gained self-confidence and strengthened her leg so that she could walk and live a normal life.
“Wayne is sure to come around soon,” Annie told her. “He’s crazy to keep you waiting for so long. I truly don’t understand the man.”
“It’s not that difficult to understand a man,” Kate said with a smile. “Food and a willing—er—spirit. That draws them every time.”
Warmth climbed Charmaine’s cheeks. Wayne had kissed her on occasion, and she hadn’t discouraged him. She was definitely a good cook. So there had to be something wrong with her. Something missing. She just wasn’t as extraordinary as her cousin or as brave and adventurous as Kate.
She’d figured out the problem. As hard as she tried to do everything just right, there wasn’t anything special about her.
Kate uncovered Charmaine’s baked goods and arranged them on a glass tray.
The back door opened. Noah and Jack Easton entered the kitchen and hung their hats on pegs. Their sleeves were damp from an apparent wash at the pump.
“You’re just in time,” Kate said with a bright smile. “Lead the way, Charmaine.”
Charmaine picked up a tray of cups and led them into the dining room, where the women were seated on straight-back chairs around the perimeter. The lace-draped table had been pushed up against one wall to hold china and napkins.
The ladies stopped their prattle to greet the men again, and Kate set the food on the table. “Charmaine, will you serve the tea, please?”
From the sideboard, she poured tea and in turn asked each person their preference and carried their cup to them.
“Sugar, please, miss,” Jack said. He appeared decidedly uncomfortable with the situation, but was following Noah’s cues. Charmaine added sugar to his tea and stirred. As his hand dwarfed the dainty china cup, she had a moment to notice his long tanned fingers and blunt nails.
He raised his gaze and their eyes met. His were rich brown, his eyebrows lighter than his dark hair, and he wore a neat mustache that left his lips visible. He had a pronounced bow to the upper one, a sharp chin and good cheekbones. A very interesting face, now that she studied it. A twinge of embarrassment—or discomfort—rose in her chest, and she realized her inspection was too forward. Not to mention disturbing.
S
he yanked her gaze to the teapot in her hand. “I’d better go for the other pot of tea.”
Kate helped her pour the steaming liquid into the china pot. When they returned, Kate served the pastries.
Jack would’ve rather wrestled a grizzly than sit here with these women and their dainty little tea cakes. His fingers didn’t fit in the cup’s handle, and he glanced to see how Noah was managing his. The rancher held the delicate china without using the handle, so Jack did the same.
The two men’s gazes met, and Noah’s held a decidedly amused glimmer. He gave Jack a nearly imperceptible nod, as if to say, “You’re doing all right. This isn’t my favorite pastime either.”
Jack’s skin prickled beneath his shirt, and the temperature in the house seemed to have risen at least twenty degrees. The last ten minutes had stretched like an entire day. Didn’t these people have something more useful to do? He had an afternoon’s work ahead of him.
He’d felt obligated to accept their invitation, and Noah was taking it in stride, but he wished he were anywhere else.
Noah’s wife had changed into a dress as frilly as the other women’s, and now she was standing in front of Jack with a tray laden with pastel frosted squares and some sort of sugary cookies that were shaped like flowers! He tried not to stare like an idiot. How much effort had gone into those?
Noah had taken a napkin first, so he did the same.
“Charmaine made the sponge lilies,” Kate said. “I can’t manage anything near as exquisite.”
Jack took two square cakes and two of the flowers just to make sure he didn’t offend anyone. The center of each delicate cookie held a yellow candy bean. He’d never put anything so pretty in his mouth before, and the confection melted on his tongue.
He watched how the ladies held their napkins on their laps and the cups in their hands and managed to copy them without spilling on himself. His food was gone in a few bites, and he was glad he hadn’t actually been hungry.
“Kate tells us you make saddles, Mr. Easton,” one of the ladies said.
His head buzzed. Now they expected him to talk?
Chapter Two
He thought the woman’s name was Lizzie, but the introductions had gone by in a blur.
“Yes’m,” he replied. “Saddles, harnesses, collars and the like.”
“Fine workmanship,” Noah added. “I own several myself.”
“How did you learn your trade?” Diana Sweetwater asked.
“My father caught and trained wild horses. I grew up helping him and apprenticed with a saddle maker when I was fourteen.”
“Is your father still alive?” Charmaine asked. She toyed with a gold locket on a delicate chain around her neck. Her hands were small and dainty, soft-looking.
“No, ma’am.”
“I’m sorry. Has your mother passed on, too?”
“Indeed. I was a boy when a fever took her.”
“How unfortunate for you.” Her expression seemed one of genuine sympathy.
“Noah lost his mother at a young age, too,” Kate told him.
With discomfort, Jack glanced at the man beside him. Had the two of them been alone, they’d never have learned of each other’s pasts.
“Where did you live before you came here?” Diana asked.
“On land my father left me. In the mountains,” he explained. “Moved my business here so my boy could go to school.”
“Daniel’s a delightful young man,” Diana told him with a smile.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Your son lost his mother at a young age, too, then,” the young woman named Pamela said, her tone sympathetic.
“She died when he was just a baby.” Growing more and more uncomfortable with their avid curiosity, and not wanting their sympathy or their attention, he tried not to squirm on the chair. He didn’t want to discuss his wife and her Cheyenne heritage—nor did he want to deal with their disapproval. He wasn’t ashamed and he didn’t want his son to be either. Neither did he want it to be an issue. The less said about her, the better.
“Kate says there’s a shoemaker settin’ up shop in town.” Noah’s comment was completely off the subject.
“He’s from Denver,” Lizzie offered. “Can’t imagine why he’s come to Copper Creek when there’s so much business in the bigger city.”
Speculation arose from two or three woman at once.
As the women’s conversation swelled around them, Noah looked to Jack with a raised brow.
Jack held back a chuckle. How easily the man had diverted their attention.
“Been a pleasure, ladies,” Noah said. He rose to set his cup and saucer on the table. “Jack and I have business to finish, so excuse us.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Cutter—”
She held up a hand.
“Kate,” Jack corrected. “The tea was fine. The cakes, too.” He set his cup beside Noah’s, itching to escape the room and the curious eyes. “The lily cookies were a real treat, Miss Renlow.”
Her fair cheeks turned pink at his words, and she stood. “I’ll send some for your son. Let me wrap a few.”
He waited in the kitchen, impatience clawing a ragged hole in his self-possession, while she wrapped several cookies in paper and tied the package with string.
He accepted the gift. “Daniel’s never seen anything like these. I never had.”
“Really? Well, they’re just…cookies.”
He glanced over his shoulder to see Noah waiting by the door. Jack glanced from the package in his hand to the young woman’s hands clasped in front of her, once again noticing her delicate white skin and slender fingers.
He pictured her shaping all those cookies and wished he’d taken a little longer to eat his.
“Thanks, miss.”
“Mr. Easton.”
He turned and grabbed his hat from beside the door and fled on Noah’s heels.
“Damnedest thing I ever saw, that tea party.” He adjusted his hat.
“Yeah.”
“You do that often?”
“Only if Kate can find me. I have trouble sayin’ no to the woman.”
They entered the corral, and Jack inhaled scents of hay and manure that were as familiar as his own skin. “Let’s get on with this deal.”
The following morning Charmaine entered Annie’s dress shop.
Her cousin looked up from the comfortable chair where she sat basting a sleeve. The other sleeve, held together with straight pins, was draped across her lap. “You’re early.”
“I woke at dawn when Daddy went out, and I had all my chores finished by breakfast.”
“Charmaine!” Rebecca squealed. Annie’s four-year-old daughter had been stacking blocks on the hardwood floor around the rug that set apart their play area, but she stood, scattering the pile, to wrap her arms around Charmaine’s skirts.
“Goodness, dearling. You’d think you hadn’t just seen me day before yesterday.”
“I missed you.”
Charmaine knelt for a warm sweet-smelling hug. “Mother was coming into town to see Mrs. Davidson, so we rode together,” she said over the child’s shoulder.
Two-and-a-half-year-old Ruth toddled over to join them. “Say me good morning.”
Charmaine laughed. “Good morning, Ruthie.” She gave the child an equally affectionate hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll read you both a story at teatime, would you like that?”
The girls clapped with delight and went back to playing with their toys. Both of them had accompanied Annie to the shop several mornings a week since they’d been born, and Charmaine came most of those mornings.
Charmaine opened the box beside the other chair and took out a voluminous gauzy veil she’d been working on for the past month. Settling in the other chair, she opened a drawstring bag, poured seed pearls into her palm, and used straight pins to stick them at the ready in the padded arm of the chair.
“I have something to tell you,” her cousin said.
Charmaine discovered Annie’s eyes
sparkling with pleasure. “What is it?”
“Luke and I are going to have another baby.”
With the surge of joy she felt for her cousin came a wave of disappointment she had to forcefully hold back. “Oh, Annie, that’s wonderful!”
She slipped from her seat to kneel in front of Annie and take her hand. “I’m so happy for you, really I am.”
“I know you are. I wanted to tell you first. No one except Luke and myself know yet.”
“Not even the girls?”
She shook her head. “We thought we’d wait a few months to tell them, so the wait won’t seem so long.”
“Luke must be very happy. And no doubt he’s hoping for a boy this time.”
Annie smiled and leaned forward. “He hasn’t said as much, but I’m certain.”
The two women hugged. Charmaine sat back on her heels for a moment, studied Annie’s face, then moved back to her chair. Picking up a needle and thread, she reflected over the past several years. There had been a time when she’d believed—and hoped—that Luke had been interested in her.
Because of the Sweetwaters’ resistance to having him court their daughter, Luke had invited both Charmaine and Annie out for ice cream and buggy rides. But it had soon become clear that his interest and devotion was all for Annie.
She’d been delighted for her cousin. Thrilled, because during the time when Annie had been treated like an invalid, she had despaired ever having a husband.
Little had they known back then that it would be Charmaine, the outgoing one, the healthy one, who would languish into spinsterhood.
After several minutes of companionable silence, she asked, “How many wedding veils have I made now?”
Annie glanced up. “A few, I guess.”
“More than a few. I make them to add to the trousseau that has grown to such immeasurable proportions that I’ve begun stacking trunks in my room.”
Annie gave her an understanding nod.
“But then I give them away. I gave one to Kate, one to Darlene and one to Janie. I’ve helped all of our friends plan their weddings. I’ve probably made a million boutonnieres. Remember how young and excited we were when Lizzie got married, and we all dreamed we’d be next?”
Wed Under Western Skies Page 12
