The Brides of Chance Collection

by Kelly Eileen Hake,Cathy Marie Hake,Tracey V. Bateman

  After all, Gideon didn’t want her here any more than Daniel did.

  Waking up to the smell of coffee and sizzling ham posed no hardship. Walking out to see a comely woman at the stove struck Gideon as pleasant enough. The matter-of-fact tone she used in commenting on shirtless men astonished him, seeing as she acted downright shy with his brothers most of the time. Come to think of it, he was the only one she ever looked in the eye. Miriam Hancock seemed more puzzling each day.

  The sick look on her face when she saw his black eye let him know she was a sympathetic woman. Intuitive, too, since she’d not breathed a word about it. He hoped she wouldn’t say a thing to Daniel.

  Daniel didn’t show up for breakfast at all. Polly skipped in all by herself. “Daddy said we get a picnic. Somebody’s ’posed to put breakfas’ in a basket.”

  Gideon turned to the side so the little one wouldn’t see his shiner. Paul stepped up to block the view. “You skip right back and tell your daddy someone will bring the picnic in just a jiffy.”

  Bryce stuck food in a crate and carried it to the door. Gideon ordered, “Tell Dan he shows up and sits at the table, or he doesn’t eat. He’ll act civil, too.”

  A rascal’s smile lit Bryce’s face. “I don’t expect that’s going to be much of a problem for very long. Cold eggs and a jar of colder coffee won’t suit him one bit.”

  “What about the coffee cake and ham?”

  “I reckon the rest of us forgot Dan hadn’t gotten his portion yet. It’s all gone.”

  “I see.”

  “Yeah. Does Dan’s face match yours?”

  Gideon shook his head once, decisively. “Not with the babies around. One of us had to be smart enough to stay in control.”

  It was Daniel’s day to watch the girls. The rest of the brothers got to work. Gideon rode out and inspected fences. No need to keep an eye out for trees they could fell to use for Miriam’s cottage—Dan’s way of handling his anger and grief had been to chop down trees and keep them in firewood. An enormous pile of logs was stacked behind the barn—more than enough for Miriam’s cabin and to expand the barn to twice its width.

  Thinking of a cabin for Miriam tightened Gideon’s jaw. He’d been outvoted, and he’d live with the decision. But he didn’t have to like it. Being responsible for a woman—and a bitty one at that—didn’t set well. He’d been careful to make sure that though they didn’t eat fancy foods, the girls always had plenty of good, healthy meals, sunshine, and thick blankets. They were hearty little snippets, but accustomed to tropical weather and an exotic diet, Miriam didn’t have the same physical reserve. Maybe he ought to put a little potbelly in her cabin. That way, she could make some tea during the winter to warm up from the inside out, too. Besides, a little stove would save them the time of collecting stones and building a fireplace.

  By chance, he spied Todd Dorsey. Though neighbors, they often didn’t see each other until they went to town. Todd tipped back his hat. “Heard tell you’ve got Hannah’s sister visitin’ and she’s quite a looker.”

  “Miss Hancock is spending time with her nieces.”

  “You could be sociable and give me an invite for supper. A woman’s cooking and company would be welcome.” The whole time he spoke, he studied Gideon’s shiner. “Must be a real pretty sight if you men are coming to blows over her.”

  Gideon hitched a shoulder.

  “She visitin’, or is she stayin’?”

  “For the time being, she’s staying. You can pass the word that we’ll be raising a cabin for her come Friday.”

  “Friday, huh? That’s quick.”

  “Chances were never men to jaw around when work needed doing.” Gideon jerked the front of his hat brim lower on his forehead and rode off.

  Todd Dorsey’s interest served as fair warning. Men in Reliable were woman-hungry. The storekeeper and his wife had a daughter of marriageable age, but they were the only decent women in the whole of the township. The rest of the place consisted of men struggling to tame enough land to finally bring families out or to start a family, but the greatest number of men fell into the latter category. They’d gotten squared away enough, and they were itching to have a decent meal and a dainty missus.

  “I’ll get Paul to put a steer on the spit. Barbecue’s decent enough meal,” Gideon muttered to himself as he squinted toward the house. “As for a decent missus, the men are going to have to search elsewhere. I’m going to have to watch out for that obstinate woman until she finally sees reason and decides to go back where she came from.”

  “Men coming Friday.” Gideon bit into a rib and tore off a big hunk of meat with his teeth yet still managed to add, “Building a cabin—a little one.”

  Miriam barely kept from dropping the bowl of mashed potatoes on the table.

  “No need to.” Daniel glowered at Gideon. “This is a very temporary situation.”

  “You never could tell time.” Gideon shot him a smile, then took another bite.

  I’ve managed to set brother against brother. That fact made Miriam seek a way to make peace between them, but she knew she was the worst person to intervene. Gideon wouldn’t appreciate her meddling, and Daniel wanted nothing to do with her, let alone her opinion.

  Bryce stuck his elbow on the table and rested his sand-papery chin in a saucesplotched hand. “If you two was dogs, I’d knock your heads together and dunk you in the trough to cool you off.”

  Logan grabbed a rib from Daniel’s plate and bit into it. “I’d help him. I’d hold you under longest, Dan. You got some nerve, coming to the supper table and eatin’ a woman’s good cookin’ when you’re speaking ill of her.”

  “I didn’t say anything about her at all.” Daniel reached over and swiped back the rib. He scowled at the missing chunk.

  “She has a name, and you’ll use it.” Gideon’s voice rivaled a thunderclap. “You’ll help build Miriam’s cabin, too.”

  “Daddy, Auntie Miri-Em maded me pretty panty-lettes. Are you going to make her a pretty house?”

  “Eat your supper, Polly.”

  It didn’t escape Miriam’s notice that Daniel avoided answering the question. She served herself a small dollop of potatoes and passed them on.

  “Daddy says we don’t get taters very much ’cause they used them all to make our fireplace.” Polly smiled at Miriam. The rib the little girl had been nibbling from the center had hit both sides of her cherubic cheeks, painting her face with clownlike charm.

  “Your fireplace?”

  Polly nodded. “Daddy picked them out of the ground and piled them. Up, up, up!” She raised her messy little hands high. “Mama made gravy and poured it over the taters, then Daddy builded a great big fire.”

  “Imagine!” Miriam could scarcely fathom Daniel concocting such a tale.

  “Turned those potatoes rock hard,” Bryce chimed in.

  “So no one can take a nibble out of them.” Gideon gave Polly a pointed look and shook his head from side to side.

  Her little head wagged in agreement. “We gots to leave the ’tato stones all alone.”

  Miriam looked from brother to brother. Daniel glowered at her, the rest looked rather sheepish, but Gideon—he simply gazed into her eyes. She said, “A grand fireplace like that would warm hands and hearts.”

  Gideon’s lips relaxed into a heart-melting smile.

  “Unca Gideon, how come you didn’t wash your face? Auntie Miri-Em says we gotta wash ’fore we eat.”

  “It’s an ouchie.”

  He told the truth, but he didn’t implicate Daniel. Gideon’s an honorable man.

  “Auntie Miri-Em kissed my ouchie finger today and maded it all better.” Polly licked her finger and held it up to prove her point.

  Bryce and Logan started to snicker.

  Polly pointed at Gideon’s eye. “Ask Auntie Miri-Em to kiss your eye all better.”

  Gideon’s brows rose. He turned toward Miriam.

  He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

  The corner of his mouth took on a
n impish slant. “Well, Miss Miriam?”

  Chapter 10

  The man is a rascal. Miriam handed her napkin to her little niece. “Polly, you should kiss your uncle better. Here. Wipe your face first.”

  “Why? You’re closer.” Polly gave her a puzzled look.

  Gideon’s brothers all started to chuckle—well, all except for Daniel. Daniel finished ripping the last bite of the rib from the bone and concentrated on his plate.

  Mortified, Miriam stammered.

  “It’s not going to hurt anything,” Paul said in a stage whisper.

  Miriam rose from the table. “Does anyone else want more coffee?” Just as she turned away, she brushed a fleeting kiss on Gideon’s temple and scampered to the stove, sure her face was hotter than the coffeepot.

  Mirth filled Logan’s voice. “Gideon’ll take a refill, but he’s had all the sugar he needs now.”

  Gideon cleared his throat. “Sugar’s on the list of supplies we need. I’ll go to town tomorrow. Anything anyone needs?”

  “Whaddya doin’, Giddy?” Bryce flopped down on the back porch. Within seconds, two dogs and the barn cat all vied for his attention.

  Gideon surveyed the yard and continued to stare at it. “I’m making plans.”

  “Plans for what?” Bryce scratched Nip between his ears.

  “A cabin.”

  Bryce’s face lit up. “You weren’t kidding. I hoped not. Tell me—you gonna marry Miss Miriam?”

  “Whatever put that foolish notion in your head?” Gideon glowered at him.

  “Well, we built a cabin for Daniel when he married up with Hannah. I just thought you were lookin’ to have a place to share with your missus, too.”

  “I’m not marrying her.” Gideon fought the urge to add on to that assertion.

  “If you ask me, that’s a crying shame.”

  “I didn’t ask you.”

  Bryce proceeded to check the hounds’ ears for ticks. As he tilted his head to do the job, he drawled, “Miss Miriam’s a fine cook and does a right nice job with the girls. Seems to me, somebody ought to marry up with her so’s she doesn’t get stars in her eyes for some other fellow and leave us.”

  The notion of not having to worry about Miriam appealed to Gideon, but the notion of her falling in love with anyone gave him indigestion. “None of the men hereabouts would be suitable for a lady like Miss Miriam.”

  “You tryin’ to convince me or yourself?” Bryce got up and dusted off the seat of his britches.

  Gideon ignored the question. “While I go to town today, I want the area between Daniel’s and the house leveled. It needs to be ready for Friday.”

  “Fair enough.”

  After Bryce sauntered off, Gideon recalled last night’s supper. His brothers were big teases, and Hannah never appreciated their rowdy ways at the table, but Miriam didn’t seem upset in the least by chuckles and jibes…except when it came to the kiss. The gal’s face went redder than a cardinal when Polly asked her about the kiss. I don’t know what came over me, letting the joke go on. But Miriam didn’t get snippy. Light and quick as a butterfly, her lips grazed his temple, and she’d flitted off. The gal has gumption.

  Titus’s early morning growl of a yawn and Paul’s deep chuckle came from inside the house. Threaded among those was a foreign sound. Gideon strained for a moment, then closed his eyes as the hymn Miriam sang so quietly reached him.

  “When darkness seems to hide His face, I rest on His unchanging grace. In every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the veil.”

  Paul joined in, “On Christ the solid rock I stand….”

  Gideon couldn’t recall the last time anyone sang. Well, yes, he could. Titus had a habit of humming and whistling—but not singing. Hannah used to hum to Polly every now and again. Before that, Mama sang. In fact, she had a special fondness for this particular hymn. Mama couldn’t sing worth two hoots. Miriam actually made listening a pleasure. Come to think of it, Paul had a decent voice, too.

  Funny how even after not having heard this hymn for years, Gideon still recalled the lyrics. He had plenty to do, but he just stayed put and let the song play out.

  The door to Daniel’s cottage opened. Polly scampered across the yard, her hair a tangled mess. I wouldn’t have noticed that fact before Miriam came.

  Daniel held Ginny Mae and strode over. She seemed a mite unhappy, and he kept patting her on the back. “If you’re going to town, get some paregoric. I can’t tell whether she’s teething or colicky, but she was up half the night.”

  “Breakfast is ready,” Miriam said from the kitchen door. Polly already clung to her skirts, and Miriam tentatively reached for Ginny. “Food’s on the table. Why don’t you go ahead and enjoy a hot meal?”

  Shifting Ginny to his other side, Daniel clipped, “Only takes one hand to eat.” He shoved past Miriam and went inside.

  “Daddy gots two hands,” Polly said as if it were an important fact.

  “Yes, he does.” Miriam playfully tapped her on the nose. “So do you, and yours need washing before you eat.”

  Gideon went to the table and gave Daniel a dark look. This situation was going to come to a head sooner or later, but now wasn’t the time. Paul bowed his head and said grace. It was short and to the point, but it was the first time any of the brothers had communed openly with the Almighty in well over a year.

  Forking four thick slices of French toast onto his plate, Gideon declared, “This smells terrific.”

  “Do we got bacon today?” Polly climbed onto her chair. She poked at the bacon on her plate. “Daddy, see? It’s not burned.”

  Daniel’s face remained impassive.

  A few minutes later, Polly shoved her plate away. “I don’t like it. It’s yucky.”

  Everyone looked to Daniel to handle his daughter’s rudeness. He simply picked up his coffee and took a long swig.

  “I like it just fine.” Gideon reached over, speared a bite from her plate with his fork, and ate it.

  “Me, too.” Titus and Paul did likewise.

  “I want sumpin’ else.”

  “What you’re going to get,” Gideon said very quietly, “is time in the corner. Naughty little girls aren’t allowed to sit at the table.”

  “Auntie Miri-Em sits at the table. Daddy said she’s bad.”

  Abruptly all movement and noise ceased at the table.

  “We’re all bad sometimes,” Miriam said tentatively. She took a shallow breath, then continued. “Jesus understands. We tell Him we’re sorry, and He forgives us.”

  “That’s enough.” Daniel bolted to his feet. The brusque action set Ginny to wailing again. He glared at Miriam. “Now look what you’ve done.”

  Miriam stood and walked around the table. She barely came to Dan’s shoulder, and Gideon stood behind her, ready to intervene.

  “You’re tired, Dan. I overheard you tell Gideon she kept you up much of the night. Polly probably didn’t sleep all that well, either. I’ll take them for the day. Why don’t you go nap?”

  Nonplussed at her gentle offer, Daniel stared at Miriam. He’d been spoiling for a fight, and she’d just knocked the wind right out of his sails.

  “You don’t know a thing about babies.” His hands closed more tightly around Ginny Mae, and her squall made it clear she didn’t like it one bit.

  “I helped Mama with sick calls, and a doctor came about the time Hannah left. I often assisted him. I daresay I can handle a fussy tot.” She reached up and took possession of Ginny. Dan didn’t look all too certain about turning loose, but he did so.

  Miriam smoothly pivoted and slipped away. She crooked her forefinger. Ginny gnawed on it and hushed. “There we are,” Miriam murmured as she carried the baby toward her own bed and laid her down. Nothing short of admiration flooded Gideon as Miriam continued to let little Ginny Mae chomp on her finger as she used the other hand to lift the baby’s gown.

  “Your daddy thinks it’s your teeth or your belly. Let’s find out.”

  The moment she
alluded to Daniel, Gideon turned toward his brother. A series of emotions flashed across Dan’s face—anger, grief, worry, resignation. Miriam hadn’t challenged his authority or faulted him in any manner. She’d simply offered to lighten his burden, and in moments like this, Gideon realized how deeply burdened and troubled his brother had become. As long as she can deal with him, I need to keep my mouth shut. I won’t have him hurting her, but she’s got a backbone of steel and a heart bigger than the ocean she crossed to get here.

  “Daniel, some babies get diaper rashes when they teethe.” Miriam reclaimed her finger and deftly unpinned the diaper. “Has Ginny Mae gotten one when she got any of her other teeth?”

  Miriam acted as if she’d had a dozen of her own young’uns. She knotted the corner of a dishcloth, dipped it in syrup, and let Ginny gum on it. That seemed to help some. By the time Miriam scorched flour and used it on Ginny Mae’s rash, the baby hadn’t quite regained her usual sweet disposition, but she’d sure enough stopped sounding like someone was trying to murder her.

  Daniel groused around the table for a few more minutes, then took his leave.

  “Gid said we’re to level the land for Miriam’s cabin,” Bryce announced.

  Miriam’s head shot up. She gave Gideon a startled look that slowly changed into a grateful smile. Not that a missionary’s daughter ought to know how to play poker, but Miriam best not ever try. Her face tattled on every emotion she had. Endearing, that quality.

  His brothers all vacated the house and set to doing their chores, leaving behind a table stacked with dirty dishes. Soapsuds, splashes, and wadded towels festooned the washstand. Polly squirmed worse than a calf getting branded as Miriam plaited her flyaway hair. Saddling Miriam with this mess didn’t seem quite fair. Come to think of it, Hannah used to try her best to wrangle a ride to town whenever one of the brothers went.

  Gideon cleared his throat. If ever there was a time they needed Miriam to help with the girls, surely this was it. A fretful teether wouldn’t allow more than a few moments’ peace all day. Polly didn’t often become peevish, but when she did, she could try the patience of a saint. Both girls would be at their worst.