The Brides of Chance Collection

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

  “Well, why don’t you all think about what you’d like to say? If they’re coming, we need to send for them soon enough so they can arrive before winter. Try to make it as personal as you can, and we’ll write it up after you’ve had a chance to think on it.”

  “And pray!” Ginny Mae piped up. “Auntie Miri-Em always says to think and pray.”

  “All right. We’ll see you later.”

  Delilah couldn’t help but notice the air of excitement surrounding the MacPhersons as they took their leave. In hopes of avoiding their courting, she’d promised to do her best to snag them other women. What have I gotten myself into?

  “Hang on, we’re comin’!” Paul buttoned his shirt and beat Daniel to the door, which he swung open. Miriam faced him, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

  “What’s wrong?” Panic surged through Paul’s veins. Miriam wouldn’t bother them in the morning unless it was something important.

  “Today’s Delilah’s birthday! I forgot until last night when I was writing in my diary, and I saw that I’d marked the date.”

  Relief washed over him, only to be followed by an unsettled feeling as his stomach clenched. He had nothing to give the woman he hoped to wed. Even the MacPhersons had managed to give her something!

  “Exactly.” Miriam nodded her approval. “So here’s what we’re going to do….”

  “Can we have carrot sticks on our picnic, Auntie Lilah?” Ginny Mae tugged on her skirts. “I likes carrot sticks.”

  Delilah smiled as she wrapped the carrots in a cloth and placed them in a basket. Miriam was so thoughtful to suggest a picnic lunch today. She and Paul would take the girls out for fun and perhaps even a sketching lesson for Polly. Delilah might sketch something worth turning into a painting.

  “All right. Have you got Dolly?” Ginny Mae ran to the table, grabbed her dolly off the bench, and clutched it to her chest.

  “Uh-huh. And Auntie Miri-Em gots an old blankie.” The toddler gave a short hop of excitement. “Can we goes now?”

  Delilah held Ginny Mae’s hand and grabbed the basket. “Let’s go!”

  Outside, Paul stood by the wagon, where Polly nestled atop the folded old quilt. “Ready?”

  Paul helped Delilah and Ginny Mae scramble into the back of the wagon, then took the seat. He’d reassured them he could handle one horse for a short ride without any problems.

  He was as good as his word, pulling up under a stand of trees with just enough leaves to offer some shade. They spread out the blanket as Paul tied the horse’s reins loosely around a tree.

  The girls ran and twirled around for a while.

  “It’s a lovely day,” he commented. “We’ve got everything we need. Good company, sunshine, shade, and a nice view.” His gaze rested on Delilah.

  “And clouds! I like clouds!” Polly pointed at the sky.

  “That one,” Delilah joined in, “could be a little castle, like in fairy tales. See the tower?”

  “Oooh,” Polly breathed. “I wish our house looked like that!”

  “Hmmm…” Paul stroked his chin. “That one’s white, fluffy, round….I’d say it looks like a biscuit to me!”

  “Yummy!” Ginny Mae clapped.

  “Can we have some now?” Polly pleaded.

  “Well, I don’t see why not. What’ve you got in that basket, Delilah?”

  “Carrot sticks.” Ginny Mae imparted her wisdom, presenting her treasure with a flourish.

  Delilah smiled as the little girl began passing out the carrot sticks. She pulled out a canteen of iced tea, some cold chicken, a wedge of cheese, and some of those renowned biscuits.

  She and Paul helped Polly and Ginny Mae make sandwiches, and they all munched happily. After lunch, Delilah pulled out her sketchbook and pencil.

  “What’re you doing?” Polly scooted over to take a look.

  “Drawing that hill over there with the trees.”

  Polly watched in fascination as the lines became tree trunks and grass. “Why are you only coloring in part of it?”

  “It’s called shading. It’s to show where the light was, so when I paint over it, I get the colors right.”

  “That’s pretty.” Polly stood up and walked over to a tree with lots of branches. Reaching up, she grabbed a branch and stuck her foot into a knothole, hoisting herself onto the lowest level. “See? I like trees!” She stretched for the next branch.

  “No higher, Polly,” Paul admonished.

  Privately, Delilah thought even that low branch, close to the ground as it rested, was already too high.

  With a gamine grin, Polly scrambled up, only to shriek as Paul grabbed her with his good arm and swung her down.

  “That was fun!” She giggled.

  “Was it worth disobeying?”

  Her smile faded at Paul’s tone. “Sorry, Unca Paul.” She buried her face in his shoulder.

  “You know better. Now you won’t get to share some of that apple pie I saw in our picnic basket.”

  Her head jerked up, and her lower lip quivered. “But I like apple pie,” she wailed.

  “You’ll remember to listen to your elders next time, though. Now go on and play with Ginny Mae.” Paul set her down and patted her on the back.

  Polly threw one last yearning look at the picnic basket, then trundled off to chase a butterfly with Ginny Mae.

  He’ll be a wonderful father. Gentle with the girls, but firm in discipline.

  He plunked down next to Delilah and tugged the sketchbook out of her hands. He studied the drawing, then the landscape, then held the sketchbook up and squinted. Delilah’s heart thumped as she waited for his opinion.

  Paul studied the sketch in silence. How can black and white seem so lifelike? Why does everything she touches gain beauty?

  “If this one weren’t in black and white, it’d be just like looking out a window. It’s that true to the land. God’s given you quite a gift, Delilah.”

  Her cheeks grew rosy at his praise. “I don’t know about that. I draw and paint because I remember Mama teaching me how. When it comes down to it, though, I didn’t make the trees or the sky. I enjoy their beauty enough to copy them. This is just an imitation.” She tapped the sketch.

  “It’s wonderful, and I think God will look upon it as a compliment.” Paul meant every word. It was a shame she didn’t see it that way yet, because her art was an eloquent form of praise.

  “Do you have to bring God into everything?” Disappointment clouded her amber eyes.

  How do I answer her, Lord? Please give me the words.

  “I don’t bring Him into anything, Delilah. His hand created all you see before you. All that is beautiful comes from Him.”

  She was silent for a while; the only sounds were the girls’ giggles as they rolled down one of the smaller hills.

  “Maybe.” Delilah stood up. “We ought to be getting back. Polly! Ginny Mae! Come on back!” Keeping her back to him, she gathered and folded the quilt, placing it and the basket in the buckboard.

  Lord, will she ever accept You? Or me?

  Chapter 12

  Paul’s the best man I’ve ever met—and we’re too different to be together. He bases his entire life on something he can’t see or touch. Delilah’s frustrated thoughts bounced around as much as the buckboard did on the bumpy road they took to return to the ranch.

  She put her arm around Polly and snuggled the five-year-old to her side. Ginny Mae crawled into Delilah’s lap and fought to keep her eyes open as the wagon swayed over the path. How could anyone not see how precious children and security were? Delilah, for one, intended to make them her priority for every minute she spent at Chance Ranch.

  They pulled up to the barn. Delilah cuddled Ginny Mae in the bed of the buckboard as Paul took care of the horse, then helped her out of the wagon before scooping Polly into his arm. It seemed as though he wanted to say something, but he turned away.

  She stopped him, only to find herself unsure of what to say. She couldn’t let their day together end
this way.

  “I enjoyed our picnic.” It sounded feeble to her ears, but Paul accepted the gesture.

  “Someday you’ll see that we’re not as different as you think.” His tender smile lifted her spirits. “Come on, they’ll be waiting on us for supper.”

  Together they walked to the house, where Miriam and Alisa were just setting an enormous pork roast on the table.

  “If I’d known you were going to prepare a feast today,” Delilah said, eyeing the mashed potatoes, peas, and corn bread, “I would’ve helped instead of going on the picnic.”

  “Balderdash.” Alisa sat down. “You know very well you helped with breakfast and looked after the girls today.”

  They all joined hands as Titus blessed the meal and thanked the Lord. Everyone stayed strangely silent, but then again, the food tasted so wonderful, no one seemed too concerned with conversation. Even Polly, having missed her afternoon nap, yawned instead of chattering like a magpie. When everyone had eaten their fill, Delilah rose and began to help Miriam clear the table.

  “Oh, Delilah.” Alisa stopped her. “There’s something the men wanted to show you. Since we’ve already seen it, Miriam and I will take care of the dishes.” She winked at Titus, who gallantly offered Delilah his arm.

  Intrigued, Delilah accepted, following Daniel and Gideon to her cabin.

  “Now close your eyes,” Daniel ordered.

  Feeling slightly apprehensive, Delilah obeyed. She heard the door creak softly as Titus led her forward.

  “All right. Open ’em.” The words barely left Gideon’s lips before Delilah gasped.

  They’d whitewashed the cabin while she’d been gone!

  “It’s wonderful,” she breathed, crossing the room and turning around to take it all in. The cabin gleamed, somehow larger and brighter. “Thank you so much!”

  Gideon and Titus grinned while Daniel shrugged. “Didn’t take long with the three of us.”

  “We used the whitewash left over from what Miriam bought,” Gideon explained.

  “Alisa thought you might like it.” Titus smiled fondly at the mere mention of his wife.

  “I love it.” Delilah fought back tears at the thoughtful gesture. “Thank you so much.” She saw that they’d done their level best to make this cabin her home.

  But it’s not my home. It’s Paul’s.

  “Will Paul mind?” she asked, hesitant to make it seem as though she didn’t appreciate the surprise, but anxious to hear the answer.

  Titus laughed. “Why do you think he took you and the girls on the picnic?”

  Happiness blossomed. Paul knew—he’d spent a lovely day with her so she could be surprised when they got back. He’s such a generous man.

  “Miriam and Alisa’ll want to know what you think.” Gideon nudged her toward the door. Still not quite believing it, she cast one last look over her shoulder, then rushed back to the kitchen to envelop Alisa and Miriam in a hug. “Thank you! It’s so lovely—I can hardly believe you did it just for me!”

  Alisa laughed. “We thought you might like it.”

  “It’s astounding what a little whitewash can do for a room.” Miriam voiced exactly what Delilah thought. “Now it’s time to blow out your candles!”

  For the first time, Delilah noticed the large cake on the table.

  “Happy birthday!” everyone chorused as she took a huge breath and blew out all of the candles.

  “Wait a minute!” Logan stopped Miriam as she began cutting the cake. “Bryce and I have something for Delilah, too.”

  Bryce carried in a crate lined with scraps from an old quilt. He set it down on the bench. Curious, Delilah leaned over to see a small, white and brown ball of fur.

  Bryce gently picked it up, and Delilah recognized a kitten just big enough to fit in the palm of his hand. “This here’s Shortstack. Normally we keep the cats in the barn, but her mama had a big litter, and Shortstack”—Bryce set her on the table to demonstrate—“has one leg that’s a bit shorter than the other three.” The little cat started ambling toward the cake. “She can get by but just can’t keep up with the rest and might not be able to move fast enough around the cows and horses.”

  Logan scooped her up and placed the tiny kitten in Delilah’s hands. “We thought maybe you’d like to keep her.”

  Delilah lifted the cat up for a closer view. She gently stroked the soft fur. “Oh, she’s adorable!” Delilah lost her heart when the kitten curled up in her cupped hands. “I think she and I will get along just fine.”

  Logan positively beamed. “You can keep the crate in your cabin—it’s where she’ll sleep. She’s big enough now she doesn’t need her mama. She’ll do with a saucer of milk.”

  Feeling as though her heart would burst, Delilah placed her new friend back in the nest of scraps. She’d never experienced such a wonderful birthday. This entire family had given their whole day to making her feel special, and she knew she’d never forget it. Daniel put the girls to bed while everyone else relaxed.

  “Well, you certainly had a busy day!” Delilah exclaimed when Alisa held up the forest green day dress with an extra length of black added to the hem and sleeves so it would fit Delilah perfectly.

  “Oh, it was nothing,” Alisa demurred and pushed a small package toward her. “Open Miriam’s!”

  Delilah tugged the string and brown paper off to reveal the small teakwood treasure box she’d admired earlier.

  “But this is one of the few things from your home, Miriam!” Delilah protested. “You should keep it.”

  “My home is here now, and so is yours. You should have a few special things in your cabin.” Miriam always knew just what to say to put her at ease.

  Delilah looked at Paul. “Thank you for letting them whitewash the cabin. I hope you like it, too, so it won’t bother you when I leave.”

  His brow furrowed. “What do you mean, when you leave? That’s your cabin now.”

  “Yeah! We can always build another one.” Logan’s frown matched his older brother’s.

  Sorry to have ruined everyone’s good time, Delilah tried to backtrack. “Oh, I’m sure you can. But I can’t stay here forever. Things will change sooner or later, you know. But I do love it here.”

  Paul smiled again. “Good, because this week I’ll teach you to drive a buckboard. I know it’s not exactly a present—”

  “Every day here is something I enjoy,” Delilah interjected. “And you know I want to learn, so you’ll be giving me a new skill. I look forward to it.”

  Daniel returned, and Gideon began an evening devotional before they all turned in for the night. Delilah brought her new pet into her cabin.

  “You’ll sleep right here where I can see you.” Delilah crossed her arms after pushing the crate right next to her bed.

  Shortstack opened her tiny mouth in a feline yawn and kneaded the blanket as she settled in. Delilah smiled and hopped into bed. Tomorrow she planned to paint that sketch she’d drawn today. It couldn’t be a grand gesture, but she wanted to give something back to these warmhearted people who’d given her so much.

  “Well, at least you don’t spoil her,” Paul teased Delilah as she set down a saucer of cream on the stoop for Shortstack’s breakfast.

  “That’s what Bryce told me to give her.” Delilah grabbed the watering can while the kitten daintily lapped her breakfast.

  “Calm down. I think she likes you, too.” He watched as Shortstack finished her breakfast and brushed up against Delilah’s skirts, trying to twine around her ankles.

  “I never knew I could become so fond of something so fast.” She smiled as the kitten gave a slightly unsteady hop off the threshold.

  Paul waited until Delilah looked at him again to reply. He met her gaze. “I know exactly what you mean.” He saw his remark sunk home when she blushed and turned her attention to the watering can, practically flooding a tiny sprout before regaining her composure and moving on.

  I can’t wait until I give her our first driving lesson.

&nbs
p; Later that morning, Paul finished inspecting all the tack and tending to the leather, then went to find Delilah. Garbed in some sort of stained smock, she stood in a patch of sunlight beside the barn, the tip of her tongue between her lips as she concentrated. A speck of green paint dotted her nose, while some stray curls escaped her loose bun to wave in the slight breeze. Paul had never seen a woman look more beautiful.

  He just stood there, watching, hesitant to startle her for fear it would ruin her work. Shortstack gave him away, ambling toward him and attracting Delilah’s attention with a mewling cry.

  Self-consciously, she lifted a hand to smooth her hair, only to stop when she saw her colorful fingertips.

  “Hi,” Paul said softly.

  “Hi.” She waved her brush toward the picture. “If you wait for a minute, you can be the first to see it.”

  More than happy she hadn’t sent him away, Paul plunked down to play with Shortstack while she finished.

  A few moments later, she stepped back with a satisfied sigh. “I’m done.”

  Paul got to his feet and strode to where she stood, very aware of her anxious gaze upon his face as he scrutinized the piece.

  What he saw almost rivaled its creator in loveliness. “Amazing. It’s as though I’m sitting with you on that very same hill!”

  A smile spread across her face. “Good. That’s just what I wanted—something so the Chance family would remember yesterday for as long as I will.” She looked away shyly and confessed, “I’m hoping everyone will want to hang it in the parlor.”

  “You’ve got my vote. It’s plain to see how talented you are.”

  “Well, it’s about time I wash up and go help with lunch.” She picked up the watercolor and headed toward her cabin. Paul noticed her slower pace as Shortstack gamboled along beside her.

  Paul stifled a groan when he spotted the all-too-familiar cloud of dust on the horizon just before lunch. This time, instead of trying to dissuade the stubborn clan from coming in, he’d just go inside and let the women know who was coming.

  At least this visit from the MacPhersons had one thing in its favor—they wouldn’t be trying to woo his woman but rather be soliciting her expert assistance in courting other brides. Come to think of it, the sooner they wrote those letters, the quicker they wouldn’t have any reason to barge onto Chance Ranch whenever the mood struck them.