The Brides of Chance Collection

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

  “Hey, Gid!” Logan’s voice interrupted their odd disagreement. She ardently hoped Logan would draw him away.

  “What?” Already irked, Gideon’s voice carried a distinct edge.

  “Is Miriam gonna be okay? Dan said she got it bad.”

  “Got what?”

  “Oh. I thought you knew. Dan said—”

  Unwilling to be spoken about and well aware the secret was out, she yanked open the door and snapped, “I was an idiot. There. Now leave me alone.”

  Chapter 16

  Gideon whistled under his breath. Red blazed across Miriam’s face, but it owed more to rash than embarrassment. He studied her face, her throat, and looked down at her hands. She’d kept them clasped behind her back, and he suspected she wanted to hide the full extent of her exposure.

  “Aw, sweet pea. You tangled with poison oak, didn’t you?”

  “So Daniel said. I had no notion what it was.”

  He heaved a sigh. “It’s wild. Grows all over.”

  “And you never mentioned it to me?”

  If glares could kill, Gideon reckoned he’d be pushing up daisies about now. “I’ll go fetch some milk and churn it. Mama used buttermilk on us whenever we—”

  “I’ll churn my own buttermilk.”

  “No.” He pointed at the bed. “You go have a rest. The salt from sweat only makes the rash itch worse.”

  She gave him a horrified look. “Are you implying I sweat, Gideon Chance?”

  He had the sinking feeling whatever he said, it would only make matters worse. He opted for escape. “I’ll be back. Leave your door open so your cottage has lots of fresh air—”

  “So I won’t sweat?”

  Figuring he’d be signing his own death warrant no matter what he said, Gideon left. Her door was shut when he returned, and he couldn’t help chuckling. Feisty as could be, Miriam wasn’t about to show any weakness, and this wasn’t really anything more than a bout of misery. He drummed his fingers on her windowpane.

  The yellow curtain swished to the side, and a slate appeared. “Leave me be,” he read aloud.

  The slate disappeared as the curtain swished back down.

  “All right, Miriam. I’ll leave you be…” He paused, then tacked on, “u-t-t-e-r-m-i-l—”

  The door opened. “You are a nuisance, Gideon.” The fire in her green eyes turned into a twinkle. “And a terrible guide. I’m holding you responsible for this tragedy.”

  “You couldn’t have gotten this from where we went on our stroll. I know for a fact that path’s clear as can be.”

  “You should have made sure nothing poisonous was around the property, and you certainly could have warned me about it.”

  “We try to keep it hacked back, but you must have gone off the path.” Her mouth opened in a perfect O that could have denoted either shock or guilt, but Gideon didn’t want either, so he hastily added, “Truth is, no one’s sure exactly how many variations there are of the pesky stuff.”

  Her speckled brow creased. “Then how do you avoid it?”

  He stuck his bandanna into the gloppy buttermilk and dabbed it on her cheek. “You do your best. Other than staying where things are cleared, just remember a saying: ‘Leaves of three, let them be.’ It seems many of the varieties of poison oak bear three leaves to the stem.”

  “Now you tell me,” she muttered. He nudged her chin with his thumb so he could get to her throat, but she resisted and claimed, “I can take care of myself. Just tell me how long I’m going to itch.”

  “Can’t say.” He refused to stop. Dipping the bandanna back into the buttermilk, he recalled, “My last episode lasted about six days. I have water in the wash kettle comin’ to a boil so we can dunk your dress.”

  “If that works with the clothes, why wouldn’t a hot bath take away my rash?”

  “Because that would make life too easy.” He daubed her nose. “Life out here is never easy.”

  Miriam had been trying to find things to occupy her time since Gideon decreed she wasn’t allowed to do anything for the next week. As dreadfully as she itched and as horrid as the rash looked, she didn’t exactly mind that order the first two days. In fact, adding a cup of baking soda to the big galvanized tub was the only time she got any respite.

  Gideon brought over the green paisley material and the lace he’d bought in town for her. Her hands hurt, but she stitched on the dress so she wouldn’t be tempted to scratch.

  “Miriam?” Paul leaned against her doorjamb. “Got any good ideas on what to make for supper?”

  “What about some corn chowder?” She gave him explicit instructions and fully expected to have him return to review them a time or two. Judging from the food the men had been fixing the last few days, Miriam decided their survival bordered on the miraculous. No matter what the dish, they managed to botch it somehow or another.

  She sat at the little drop-leaf desk in her cottage and finished writing another letter to her cousin. Delilah had managed to send her a note last week, and Miriam invited her to come for a visit whenever she’d like to. It shouldn’t cause a problem if she accepts. Delilah can stay here in my cottage with me.

  After she pasted shut the envelope, Miriam looked out her open door and waited until she spied the next Chance to pass by. “Titus?”

  “Yep?”

  “I’d like to post a letter. Could you please help me hitch up the buckboard? I’ll take the girls to town with me.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Gideon said you’re off work detail until Monday. ’Sides, I just got back from town. Brought back more baking soda for you to soak in.”

  “How thoughtful. That terrible itch is almost gone now, but it’s good to have a supply on hand, just in case.”

  Titus scuffed his boot in the dirt. “Truth is, I was hoping maybe I could talk with you a minute or so.”

  “Sure.” She left her cottage and sat out on a bench. Titus ambled alongside her, but he didn’t take a seat. Instead, he planted one boot on the bench beside her and leaned forward so he could lean on that knee.

  “Something’s on your mind, Titus?”

  He nodded. “A gal.”

  “Hmm.”

  “She’s as purty as a speckled pup, Miriam—only she’d have a hissy fit if she heard me say such a thing. She’s cultured and classy—went to a finishing school.”

  “Oh, the Whites’ daughter is back?”

  “That’s the one.” A slow smile lit his face. The expression made him look even more like Gideon than usual. “She came in on the stage today. You’ve never seen such a day gown. I venture she has more rows of ribbons and lace on it than—” He stopped abruptly and went ruddy.

  “So she has lovely clothes.” Miriam ignored whatever avenue his mind might have been traveling and pulled him back to the subject. “Did you invite her to attend church?”

  “Her mama already said they were a-comin’.”

  “Then you’ll have to maneuver so as to be seated next to the lovely lady.”

  “Now that’s a dandy plan.” Titus leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Priscilla just got back, but a fellow can’t wait—not around here. I’m figuring maybe I ought to pop the question straightaway, before some other buck does, so I have dibs on her.”

  “Titus! Were you and Miss White courting before she left, or did you have an understanding?”

  “No.” His expression turned guarded.

  “How can you know if she’s the right one, then? She may be a vision of beauty, but that doesn’t mean the Lord intends your souls to be forged into one. It’s not the outward appearance that should count. You’re worth more than having a china doll on your arm, Titus. You deserve a woman who will be your helpmeet and share her heart with you.”

  “I could ask Paul to move in with Gideon so I’d be able to offer her a place of our own. I’d even be willing to go into town to help her pa at the store if he needs me.”

  “You’re willing to offer your goods and your muscles, Titus. That’s a start. B
ut are you willing to share your heart? Do you even know if Priscilla has any feelings for you? Working hard and being attracted are fine, but they aren’t enough to make a marriage work.”

  “I just don’t want someone else to beat me to the punch and snap her up. We don’t get many womenfolk up here.”

  “You asked my opinion, and from a woman’s perspective, I have to tell you that a man who wants a bride based only on her availability or appearance isn’t the kind of man a worthy woman would wed.” She reached over and touched his arm. “Pray before you act.”

  “Can’t say I’m surprised you said that, but ever notice that fellas move a lot faster than God lots of the time?”

  “You’re right. Maybe that’s why the world is in such a state.”

  Titus wandered off to do some praying and thinking. Miriam sat on the bench and closed her eyes. She needed to listen to her own advice. A man who wanted a woman just because she was available ought never propose. She wouldn’t put up with such a sham marriage. Gideon might have drawn the short straw, but that doesn’t mean I have to accept if he proposes. He can just go search for a bride elsewhere.

  “Now that was a fine meal. Don’t know how you do it, but every last thing you make is a treat.” Gideon smiled at Miriam as he pulled her chair back from the supper table. She’d made a zesty chili and corn bread and topped off the meal with a fine-tasting berry pie. As far as he was concerned, life didn’t get better than that.

  “Thank you. I’m glad you liked it.” She rose and began stacking dishes.

  He reached over and took the plates from her and set them back down on the table. “How about going for a stroll?”

  “I’d rather not.”

  Her refusal surprised him. He steered her out to the porch as his brothers started to clear the table and squabble over who was supposed to wash dishes. Gideon turned her and held both arms above the elbows to be sure he wasn’t bothering any last splotches of her poison oak rash. Studying her eyes, he wondered aloud, “You’re not still sore at me about forgetting to tell you about the poison oak, are you?”

  “I’ve forgiven you.”

  He couldn’t resist smiling back at her. Sweetness radiated from the woman. Trailing his fingers down her soft cheek, he rumbled, “If you’re afraid I’ll walk you through a patch, I’ll carry a lantern.”

  Miriam shied away from his touch. “There are better ways to shine your light.”

  He chuckled at her cleverness, but he still hadn’t succeeded in his goal. He wanted to be alone with her. “Tell you what. Come with me to shut the chickens back into the coop.”

  “Okay. Did you know two of the eggs this morning were double yolked?”

  Most of the hens were content to get back to their nests as twilight fell. A few stubborn ones scattered and needed to be chased down. Once done with that task, Gideon shut one large door of the chicken “cabinet” as Miriam shut the other. He met her in the middle and latched it closed.

  “We make a good team.” He silently congratulated himself on that segue. Surely it counted as a slick way to ease into an opportunity to pop the question.

  “I’ve been impressed by the way you and your brothers work together to keep this place going.”

  “That’s a mighty fine compliment.” He smiled at her. “Your opinion holds a lot of sway with me, so that makes your words count for even more.”

  Miriam looked as if she were ready to head toward her cottage, and Gideon slipped a hand around her wrist to hold her back. Now that he’d worked up the courage, he wanted to get this over with.

  “Miriam, you’re already part of the family, but I’d like to make it formal. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Chapter 17

  Your offer is generous, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

  Gideon stared at Miriam in disbelief. He’d never imagined she’d refuse his proposal. It was all supposed to be so easy, so practical. Miriam never stirred up problems; she solved them. What had gotten into her, to wreck his carefully laid plans?

  “Why not?” He blurted out the question.

  Even in the evening light, he could see the color drain from her face. “It’s not right,” she stammered. “It just won’t work.”

  “But—”

  “Please excuse me….” She dashed back to her cottage and shut the door so fast, a stranger would have thought the hounds of Hades were on her heels.

  Gideon beat his hat against his thigh and headed toward the barn. He needed time alone. Never had it occurred to him that Miriam wouldn’t consider the two of them to be a suitable match. At the moment, he had to figure out what to do next.

  Unfortunately, Paul was in the barn. He folded his arms on the top of a stall door. “Well, when’s the big day?”

  “It isn’t.”

  “Oh. You sure are takin’ your time at all of this courtin’ business. I thought for sure you were trying to get Miriam to go for a walk so’s you could propose.”

  “I asked; she refused.” The admission stung his pride, but the hurt went far deeper than that. Gideon couldn’t figure out why.

  “What did you do wrong?”

  What did I do wrong? The question kept running through Gideon’s mind. A proposal in front of a chicken coop wasn’t exactly romantic enough to make a girl swoon with delight, but Miriam wasn’t like other gals. Besides, he’d tried to get her to take a walk. She just didn’t cooperate.

  “Did you think to show her Ma’s ring so she knew you weren’t funnin’ her?”

  “I’m not bribing a woman to be my bride!”

  Paul heaved a sigh. “I didn’t say you were. I reckoned since she turned you down, maybe she took it for a joke—like she did the day we built the cabins. She didn’t realize Marv was making a serious offer. Could be the gal just didn’t understand you meant business.”

  “Mind your own business, Paul.” She had to know I was serious. Maybe I just shocked her. She might need time getting used to the notion.

  “Fine. She’s your problem.”

  “She’s not a problem; she’s just confused. Women sometimes need to let an idea take root.”

  “Yeah. Ma was like that. Said she liked to sleep on things.” Paul shrugged. “If it doesn’t work out, Titus and I’ll go ahead and draw straws.”

  Gideon glowered, and Paul left the barn. Gideon paced back and forth, trying to determine what had made calm, meek Miriam run off. Maybe she thinks it’s wrong to have a wedding since Hannah died. But Hannah died nearly a year ago. Silly woman scampered off too fast. I need to reason with her.

  Heart breaking asunder, Miriam curled up on her bed. Gideon had offered her what she most wanted, but it would be an empty marriage because he felt no love for her. God, please help me. Strengthen me. Make this terrible situation go away. I can’t bear to see Gideon again tomorrow. I don’t know what to do.

  She’d come to her cabin because she couldn’t bear to have Gideon offer matrimony when his heart wasn’t in it. Her refusal was supposed to free him of any obligation.

  A man who loves a woman pursues her, courts her, woos her. I won’t bind him to me because he has misguided loyalties to his brothers and nieces. Someday, when he meets the woman of his dreams, he’ll thank me for letting him off the hook. The idea of Gideon falling in love and marrying someone else made her bury her face in the pillow and start crying again.

  Papa always spoke the message, but Mama had a knack for speaking words of wisdom at the right time. Miriam wished Mama were here to share this burden. “I rely on God’s Word and prayer, but when I flounder, God sometimes speaks to me in a song.” Mama’s words sifted through Miriam’s aching heart. She huddled on the bed and waited. Soon a hymn threaded through her mind.

  “When darkness seems to hide His face, I rest on His unchanging grace.” The lyrics pulled at her. She started to hum but gave up. All she managed was a broken, off-key croak—a pathetic sound that matched the shattered feeling in her heart. “When all around my soul gives
way, He then is all my Hope and Stay.”

  Miriam wiped tears from her face. Lord, be my Hope and Stay. Everything around me is giving way, but Thou changest not.

  In the midst of her prayer, a solid, single thump rattled her door. Gideon. No one else “knocked” like that.

  “Miriam!”

  No one else bellowed like that, either.

  “We need to talk.”

  She sat on the edge of her bed. “You’re not talking; you’re hollering like a madman.”

  “If I’m insane, it’s your fault.” He lowered his voice. “Take pity on me and get out here.”

  “Why don’t you take pity on me and leave me alone?”

  He groaned. “You’ve been crying, haven’t you?”

  She didn’t answer. Lying was a sin, but she figured keeping her mouth shut wasn’t exactly the same thing. He didn’t have a right to know how she felt, anyway.

  “We can work this out. I know we can,” he cajoled.

  Waiting wasn’t going to make the problem go away. If anything, the longer Gideon stood out there, talking at her door, the greater the chances were that all of his brothers would get involved in this travesty. Miriam crossed the floor.

  “Any problem can be worked out if folks are reasonable.”

  “And,” she said as she opened the door and stared up into his face, “they have a handful of straws.”

  Gideon gave her a baffled look.

  Mortified to the core, Miriam admitted, “I know about what happened. You’re supposed to be stuck with me, but I’m not going to be a part of it. So now can we stop all of this embarrassing nonsense and get back to being normal?”

  “If you knew, why are you mad?”

  “You mean, you’re supposed to have that right because you’re the one who lost and drew the short straw?” Her jaw jutted out. “You can be a happy man again. Go back and tell your brothers I let you off the hook.”

  “Have you taken leave of your senses? Why would I do an idiotic thing like that?”

  Miriam let out a choppy sigh. “I’m not going to run away with some other rancher or cowboy. I’m committed to staying here.”