The Brides of Chance Collection

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

  “Delilah.” He said it softly, testing it out, but the way he said it made it sound beautiful.

  Titus came in, leading Alisa and their nieces. Everyone took a seat. Gideon presided at the head of the table, with Miriam on his right. Delilah hastened to sit on her other side. Dan sat to his left with Ginny Mae on his lap and Polly beside him, flanked by Alisa and Titus. Paul sat next to Delilah, with Logan beside him and Bryce at the end of the table. Delilah tried to ignore the fact that they were packed so close, she could feel Paul’s warmth.

  After everyone settled in, Delilah jumped a bit when Paul clasped her hand in his until she realized they had all joined hands for prayer. She only wished she could be a part of something so special.

  For now, she’d just pretend that she wasn’t someone they’d taken in out of charity. She listened as Gideon spoke of his appreciation for all of their blessings and asked God to be with them during the day to come. It seemed strange that they’d think God, who was so big and busy, would be right beside each of them all day long. Perhaps it just feels that way because they have each other to care about.

  Paul’s hand swallowed hers. It almost made her feel dainty and feminine sitting next to him with her hand cocooned in his warm, work-roughened palm. She stifled a pang of regret when the prayer ended, and after a slight reassuring squeeze, he let go. She sat as an outsider once again amid morning chatter as everyone passed around platters of eggs and bread with the coffee.

  I don’t want to let go, Paul realized. He didn’t even know why he’d sat next to her. Usually he took the place at the end of the table where Bryce sat today. Logan sent him a peeved look, but Paul watched Delilah hop like a frightened rabbit to be next to Miriam, and before he knew it, he squeezed beside her at the table. He’d felt her quick intake of breath when he’d first grasped her palm. Now he didn’t want to let go of the warm, soft, slender hand nestled so sweetly in his.

  She towered over Miriam on the other side of her, but the crown of her head came about equal to his nose. She reminded him of that old fairy tale Alisa told the girls. The one about the girl who walked into the bears’ house and tested everything out. Delilah felt not too big, not too small, but just right. She smelled so feminine and delicate, but he didn’t feel like he crushed her hand, either, which brought him back to the odd little war going on inside of him.

  Paul knew the prayer would end any minute, but he just hadn’t quite convinced himself to let go. Her dress—the color of marigolds—made her look like a ray of sunshine, and he wanted to enjoy her warmth a little longer. When everyone said, “Amen,” he compromised and gave her hand a slight squeeze before withdrawing.

  “Your breakfasts make it worth gettin’ up, Miriam.” Bryce’s praise was well earned.

  “Thank you, Bryce, but I think Delilah deserves most of the credit this morning. It’s the first time she’s ever cooked.” Miriam’s response had everyone peering at their new houseguest.

  “You did a fine job, a mighty fine job.” Logan shoveled eggs with gusto as everyone congratulated Delilah.

  Even Polly chimed in. “Yeah. I haven’t ate crunchy eggs since Auntie Miri-Em came.”

  Silence fell as the menfolk became intently interested in their coffee, and Delilah blushed. “I must’ve gotten some shell into the bowl. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s all right,” Alisa assured her as she inspected Polly’s plate. “A little bit never hurt anyone, I’m sure.”

  “What are you doing, Auntie Alisa? I like my crunchy eggs!” Polly snatched back her plate. Paul couldn’t help it; he started to chuckle. Soon everyone joined in, even Dan.

  “Crunchy eggs!” Dan grinned at his little daughter. “Well, Princess Polly, if you like your crunchy eggs, you can go ahead and eat them. Won’t do you any harm.”

  After the laughter stopped, Paul faced Delilah. Her cheeks flushed. “Maybe little Polly got a bit of shell in hers, but I’ve never tasted better eggs ’n’ ham.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed breakfast so much.

  After breakfast, the men went out to their usual duties while the women cleaned up. It took Delilah half of eternity to scrub the skillet clean, but finally she finished.

  “Delilah,” Miriam offered, “since you arrived yesterday evening, you didn’t have much of an opportunity to wash up after traveling. I’ll bet your hands are pretty well soaked after that pan, but if you’d like, we can fill the tub so you can have a bath. After you’re done, we’ll dunk the girls.”

  “That would be wonderful, Miriam. I’ll start pumping the water.” While Miriam dandled Ginny Mae on her lap and worked with Polly on colors and numbers, Alisa and Delilah heated pots of water and hefted them to the old washtub they’d hauled in from the barn. When they’d set everything up, Delilah hurried to fetch her soap.

  Once behind the screen, she got out of her clothing as quickly as possible and slid into the bath. She supposed the tub was barely big enough for the largest of the brothers to hunch into, but it gave her enough room to lean back as long as she bent her legs. Mindful that the little ones would be next, she picked up the soap instead of soaking. It wouldn’t be fair to leave them with a cold bath after she luxuriated in the relaxing warmth. After she filled her hair with suds, she reached for the basin of fresh water next to her. When she’d scrubbed out all the dirt and achiness, she reluctantly climbed from the tub to help Miriam and Alisa with the girls.

  When she came out from behind the partition, Miriam looked at her in surprise. “That was awfully fast.”

  “Usually we enjoy a soak for as long as we can. It’s one of the comforts around here.” Alisa spoke as she helped Polly undress.

  “I enjoyed every minute,” Delilah praised. “I just didn’t want the water to be cold for the girls. I feel so much more like myself now that I’m clean again.”

  “Why don’t you try to dry your hair and braid it while we take care of the children?”

  Delilah gratefully took Miriam’s advice and toweled her hair a bit more, only to realize she’d forgotten her brush. She excused herself and went out once more. The sun glowed cheerfully in the blue sky, so full of life she slowed her pace to enjoy the beauty of the day. Rather than braid her hair alone in the small cabin, she picked up her brush and trekked back to the kitchen. After living without the company of women for so long, she found herself eager to spend time with Miriam and Alisa. I might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

  Paul shaded his eyes and scanned the sky. It could only be about ten o’clock, but for some reason, he hankered for lunchtime. At any rate, he needed to head back for some more tacks. The stretch of fence they’d been fixing needed more help than they’d thought, considering they’d worked on it a few weeks before.

  He strode over to where Speck, his brown and white paint, calmly grazed. He swung into the saddle and trotted over to Titus. “I’m heading back for some more tacks.” At his brother’s nod, he turned Speck toward the barn and cantered off. As the house came into sight, he spotted a flash of yellow as Delilah came out of the kitchen. He watched as she slowed her pace, enjoying the sun. Her head tilted back for a moment, and black waves tumbled over her shoulders. His throat went dry.

  As she disappeared into the room he’d given up for her, he spurred Speck over to the barn before hitching the horse. I’m parched, he told himself as he headed toward the kitchen for a cup. Yep. Being so close, it made sense to go get a cool drink from the pump rather than slug some of the tepid water from his canteen. That was all there was to it. Who could blame him if he stayed a couple of moments to tickle the girls? Good uncles needed to spend time with their nieces, and since the women had arrived, he missed having a day a week with the girls. If Delilah happened to come back into the kitchen while he was there, it’d do no harm to see how she was getting along. He lengthened his stride toward the door.

  “Hello, Paul.” Alisa didn’t hide her surprise at seeing him. From the damp towel on the floor by his barefooted niece, he reckoned she’d hauled Ginny
Mae from the tub and was just buttoning up the last button. When she made as if to hand the toddler off to Miriam, he quickly intercepted.

  Delilah glided into the room like a beam of sunlight carrying a brush. She stopped cold at the sight of him.

  “Don’t mind me. I came by for some tacks and thought I’d grab a drink before I got back out there.” He ignored the knowing glance Miriam sent him and forgave her amusement when she jumped in.

  “That’s right, and he’s lending a hand with Ginny Mae here for a moment until you’re finished fixing your hair. Take a seat by the fire so your hair will dry a bit faster.”

  Delilah nodded and took a seat. Paul busied himself by drying Ginny Mae’s hair, but he watched Delilah gently guide the brush, stroke after stroke, through her magnificent mane. When she started braiding, nimble fingers slipping through and weaving those black tresses, he became transfixed. The agility with which she performed the ritual showed it was a common one, but it seemed intimate since it was something usually done in private. By the time she’d finished putting her hair up, he wanted nothing more than to pull out the pins and run his fingers through it, testing its weight and silky texture.

  She went out to the pump and filled a glass with water. As soon as she’d finished, she walked around the table. His breath caught as she stooped beside him and gently took Ginny Mae from his arms, giving him the cool water. She smelled wonderful— like fresh snow and violets.

  As he walked back to the barn, he decided that lunchtime couldn’t come soon enough.

  Chapter 3

  After breakfast the next morning, Delilah followed Miriam into the barn with trepidation. She’d meant it when she said she wanted to learn everything about running the household, but somehow she’d never figured milking cows fit into it. She’d rather be in the vegetable garden with Alisa. Now she’d just have to make the best of it. I like milk, so that’s something, at least.

  The two creatures shared a large stall. Delilah watched as Miriam set a stool beside one of the beasts, then sat down and motioned for Delilah to come closer. Determinedly, Delilah strode over.

  “Ready? First, take hold of one of Mister’s teats, and—”

  “Mister?” Delilah cut Miriam off. Even she knew this cow couldn’t possibly be a male.

  Miriam grinned. “Polly named them. This one’s ‘Mister’ and the other’s ‘Sir.’ Since she practiced her manners so well, the guys just didn’t have the heart to tell her no.”

  It made perfect sense, so Delilah only giggled for a couple of minutes. Then they shifted their attention back to the lesson at hand.

  “After you grab a pair, you tug and squeeze. Like this.” A stream of white milk ran into the bucket. “Want to try?”

  Not really. Delilah eyed Mister doubtfully but nodded anyway. Miriam got off the tiny stool so Delilah could perch on it. At least the cow wasn’t moving. She hesitantly reached for the udder.

  “That’s it. Now tug downward and squeeze.” Delilah did, and a squirt of milk splashed off the side of the bucket.

  “Try to aim it into the bucket.”

  Well, why didn’t she say so? Aiming posed no problem. Delilah compensated and caught the hang of milking in no time. While Delilah finished Mister, Miriam milked Sir, and before long, they completed the task.

  “We’ll make fresh butter today,” Miriam decided as they carried their milk pails to the kitchen. They’d just set the buckets on the table when they heard voices outside.

  They’d finished driving the herd to the next grazing pasture and were moving the bulls when a raven caught Paul’s eye. Its wings shone the same smoky black as Delilah’s hair. Unfortunately, an ornery bull chose that moment to break free and charge straight for him. After years of tending a ranch, Paul handled this sort of thing often enough, but for once it caught him off guard. He spurred Speck to zig when he should have zagged, and by the time he realized his mistake, he lay on the ground with a sharp pain throbbing up his arm.

  Logan and Dan took charge of the bull, and Bryce reached Paul first, only to immediately check on how Speck fared.

  “Anything other than a few bumps and bruises?” Gideon’s concerned tone brought little comfort as Paul nodded.

  “My arm.” He gritted his teeth and awaited the pronouncement as Gideon prodded.

  “Probably broken. We’ll have to take you back to Miriam so she can have a look.” Gideon hefted him up. It took both Bryce and Gideon to help get Paul into Splotch’s saddle; then Gideon gave him a wary look. “You okay to ride?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You lie just as lousy as you look.” Gideon swung up behind him. Bryce followed with Speck as they rode back to the house.

  After the men had gotten off the horse by the house, Miriam and Delilah dashed out to see what had happened. Paul left the explanations to Gideon.

  “Speck lost him when they dodged an angry bull. I think he’s broken his arm.”

  “Take him on into the kitchen,” Miriam said. Everyone trooped behind, and Paul felt like a first-rate numbskull. How on earth would he prove himself a good protector and provider if he couldn’t manage to stay on a horse? He’d decided after supper last night that Delilah was the woman for him. Maybe it seemed like a quick decision, but Papa had been the same way with Mama, and besides, there were dozens of men to every one woman out here. He needed to act fast. Of course, he’d be going slower now if he’d managed to break his arm. His forearm had already puffed up. Yep, that was attractive, all right.

  He took a seat and grimaced as Miriam gently turned his arm. “Can you wiggle your fingers?” He complied, then sucked in a quick breath at the fresh flash of pain. Stupid arm hurt like anything, but the last thing he was gonna do with Delilah standing right beside him was holler about it. He snuck a peek at her face and gained some satisfaction at the expression of compassion on her delicate features.

  “I broke my wrist years ago.” She reached out and clasped his good hand. Warmth shot through him, but this time, he enjoyed the tingling sensation.

  While he’d been distracted, someone had brought in some straight pieces of wood and bandages. Miriam confirmed Gideon’s assessment.

  “You’ve broken your arm, but it seems like a clean break near the wrist. I’ll have to splint it and put you in a sling, Paul. You won’t be able to ride for at least a couple of weeks. For today, I think you should take some of this.” She plunked a glass of water on the table in front of him. From the way Miriam said it, he knew she’d laced it with laudanum. He shook his head.

  “I’m not taking that.” Since Delilah had begun holding his hand, the pain had stopped being so sharp.

  Miriam retreated. “Paul, we all know you’re a strong man who gives as good as he gets.” That sounded better. He nodded his agreement.

  She continued. “Do you remember the first night I came here?” Uh-oh. She’d tricked him. He scowled at her.

  “You gave me laudanum after Logan brained me, right?”

  He had no choice but to admit it. “What of it?” Now he sounded surly—typically more Dan’s territory than his.

  “So if you can give as good as you get, you should be able to take what you give to others.” The pronouncement held no logical flaws, but he gave one last argument.

  “I’ll be fine—just fine—without it.” He felt Delilah squeeze his hand, and he turned to her.

  “Wise men can admit when they need a little help. There’s no shame in that, but there is some in causing yourself more pain than necessary.” From her serious tone, he realized she spoke from watching her father’s addiction to gambling ruin his life. It also crossed his mind that being stuck around the homestead wouldn’t be such a bad thing for the next month or so. Staying close to the house meant sticking close to her—but only if he wasn’t asleep the whole time. This called for a compromise.

  “I’ll be sure and take it before bed to make sure I sleep, but not now. If your argument holds, Miriam, that’s fair since I only gave you laudanum at night.”<
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  Miriam gave in graciously. “I’ll hold you to that, Paul.”

  After trussing Paul up like a turkey—his words, not hers—Miriam sent the rest of the men back out to the grazing fields and handed Paul a bucket of slop for the pigs.

  “This morning I intended to teach Delilah how to take care of the yard livestock. We’d just finished milking Mister and Sir when you rode up. Alisa’s watching the girls, and I need to start on lunch. I hadn’t gathered the eggs this morning so I could show Delilah. It still needs to be done. The chickens need to be fed and the pigs slopped, too. If you feel up to it, take Delilah with you and teach her. She’s a quick learner.” With that, Miriam shooed them both out of her kitchen.

  Delilah found herself standing outside with Paul, trying to decide whether or not she felt happy with the situation. She’d learned long ago not to let herself be caught alone with a man—they couldn’t be trusted. But here she stood. She couldn’t do or say anything to get out of it without insulting Miriam or Paul. Not to mention that of all the brothers, it had to be Paul—the one she was most drawn to and least comfortable around. Well, Dan probably made her more uncomfortable, but Miriam wouldn’t push her into spending time with him.

  Why couldn’t it be Bryce, more concerned with his animals, or either Titus or Gideon, who couldn’t keep their eyes off their wives? She’d even prefer Logan, who couldn’t seem to stop himself from staring. Nope, she wasn’t that lucky. Paul, the unexpectedly intriguing giant, broke his arm. She’d even held his hand for some reason she couldn’t recall. The man who gently held Ginny Mae and dried her duck fluff hair, whose touch sent tingles down Delilah’s spine, would teach her to slop pigs.

  A lot of thoughts raced through that pretty head. Paul wondered what those thoughts might be. He figured they had something to do with the fact that Delilah wasn’t comfortable being alone with him. As unencouraging as that might be, she’d held his hand earlier while Miriam looked at his arm, which meant that even if chances were slim, they existed. He should say something to set her at ease.