The Brides of Chance Collection

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

  Paul accepted the half-pint jar she’d put in his hands.

  Daniel hefted the crate of dishes and made sure the little cloth mouse peeping out of the edge wouldn’t fall out. Polly would be delighted to have that simple toy again. “Let’s go.”

  “Y’all ride safe. Afore ye go, I wanna say I niver seen a man wield an ax like you did this day, Dan’l Chance. Them trees left standin’ out there are prob’ly gonna start a-shuddering in fear when you ride past.”

  At first her praise sat nice, but as Daniel rode home, he changed his mind. That little widow had plenty to say, but it was always good. Such compliments and flattery from a woman added up to only one thing—she aimed to nab herself a husband. Daniel determined then and there to keep his distance.

  Chapter 8

  There, now. Such a grand girl you are,” Lovejoy crooned to the sorrel mare Obie lent her for the day as she saddled her. The girls were busy hitching a pair of sturdy workhorses to the buckboard so they could all go to town.

  Yesterday the men worked from can-see to can’t to make up for the house buildin’ day. The gals worked alongside their men as was fitting—taking care of the barn critters, mucking stalls, gardening, milking, collecting eggs. They’d dug right in and done more baking and laundry, too.

  “We ’spected you’d be fixin’ the houses today,” Obie told them at supper.

  “We picked the feed sacks we liked the best to make curtains,” Lois said.

  “Until you all speak your vows, these gals are gonna sleep in this cabin.” Lovejoy set down the law. “You men cain decide if you want to all pile down together in one of them cabins or out in the barn. That way you’ll all avoid temptation.”

  No one argued with her, and to her utter amazement, Mike said, “I paid White for potbelly stoves. He’s only got one in stock, so he’ll bring all three up soon as the others arrive.”

  As if that news hadn’t been enough to stun them, Hezzy dug around in his pockets and dropped five double eagles on the table. “We ain’t had time to make furniture and sech. Mike says yore gonna need stuff. This’ll be our weddin’ gift to you.”

  The three brides stared at the gleaming coins in shocked silence. One hundred dollars. Lovejoy doubted any of them had ever held more than two bits.

  “Go on with you now,” Obie said. “Lest you think we’re rich, though, best you know that’s ’bout the last of what we got.”

  Tempy shoved it back. “We got what we truly need. You keep that and send it to your pa through the comin’ years.”

  Lois and Eunice held on to one another. Though their faces were pale as dandelion fluff, they both nodded. “Kin comes first.”

  Mike took Tempy’s wrist and turned over her hand. One by one, he stacked the glittering twenty-dollar gold coins there. “When a man and woman marry up, they put each other first, above all. We got faith that the good Lord’s going to provide. He’s never failed us. Now you go spend smart, sweetheart.”

  Spend smart. The girls were up most of the night assessing what they’d brought and what the men already had on hand, then making a list. Lovejoy tried to stay out of their discussion. They were grown women, and they needed to be making their own decisions. Judging from the list Tempy carried in her pocket, they’d proven themselves worthy of that trust.

  Lord, those gals are heading toward the altar. Their hearts and minds are set, and from all I see, the men are good ’uns. Don’t let me be blinded by this wealth of supplies or smooth talkin’. If there’s reason for any of these couples not to wed, I’m beggin’ Thee, please drive them asunder right quick.

  Daniel got a sinking feeling as he rode Cooper up to the MacPherson cabin. It didn’t look like anyone was home. Asking for help went against his grain. He hated relying on anyone, but he had no choice.

  By breakfast, he knew he couldn’t ask Miriam to watch the girls. Their coughs had returned with a vengeance and turned into nasty colds. Miriam’s baby was cranky and feverish, too. Paul said Delilah was so green around the gills, she could barely lift her head off her pillow, and Alisa wasn’t weathering her pregnancy any better. The way she looked reminded Daniel of how bad his Hannah had gotten whilst carrying Ginny Mae. He finally admitted to himself that his plan to avoid the Widow Spencer wasn’t going to work.

  So he bit the bullet, came seeking help—and no one was home. Maybe she and the brides-to-be were all chattering up a storm and didn’t hear me. Dish towels flapped in the breeze on the clothesline, but that was the only sound. He knocked, opened the door of the main cabin, and found it empty. Not empty, vacant, he corrected himself. Lovejoy’s “yarbs” filled the place.

  Faint singing made him shut the door and turn around. Sopranos were singing “Oh, how I love Jesus.” With their accent, it sounded more like, “Oh, how Ah luuv Jay– sus.” This time the hillbilly accent brought relief. The women were in the stable—well, make that coming out of the stable.

  Daniel noticed none of the gals on the seat of the buckboard was Lovejoy. He looked at Tempy. “Where’s your sister?”

  “I’m right here, Dan’l Chance.” Lovejoy rode straight to him then skillfully nudged her horse to sidestep so as not to have it splash in a puddle near his feet. Her smile faded. “What’s a-wrong?”

  “Is it Delilah?” Tempy asked.

  “Yore little girls?” the other two asked in unison.

  “Both, and Miriam’s little Caleb’s taken ague, and Alisa’s just too puny. Can you come check on them?”

  “ ’Course I will. Lemme fetch my healin’ satchel.”

  Not wanting to waste any time, he lifted her out of the saddle and set her to earth away from the mud. She scurried into the cabin and called over her shoulder, “Don’t you worry yourself so hard, Dan’l. Ain’t nobody bleedin’ or dyin’.”

  As far as reassurances went, it was as odd as the woman who gave it, but it worked. Relief flooded him.

  Accustomed to making sick calls, Lovejoy had everything down to an art. She always kept her satchel packed for emergencies. By simply tossing in her nightdress and other dress, she met her personal needs. Knowing the children had colds and the women were suffering maternal difficulty led her to grab specific packets, then she latched the valise. Normally she wore her knife, but she’d planned to leave it at home for the trip to town. Binding the sheath to the side of her apron, she whispered a quick prayer, then slipped the knife into place. Valise and gathering sack in hand, she exited the cabin.

  Daniel Chance hadn’t stood around whilst she was in the cabin. Hardworking, helpful man that he was, he’d busied himself checking to be sure the team was properly hitched. Though somewhat amused that he thought they might not know how to hitch a team, Lovejoy was also touched by his kindness. Women in his family probably didn’t know how to saddle or hitch up horses—they were all fine ladies.

  “You gals go on ahead.” She tilted her head toward the road. “You know what to do, and we need to get a wiggle on.”

  Daniel lifted her onto the dainty sorrel mare and took the canvas valise. Once he mounted up, Lovejoy kept her mare going at a lively canter right beside him. “I’m a-tellin’ you, this land is surely wrought by God. Don’t it just take yore breath away?”

  “Fine land.”

  He didn’t seem overly talkative, but Lovejoy figured he was worried. “I don’t mean to boast, but I’m able to ride without followin’ a path. If ’n you got yourself a shortcut, we cain take it.”

  “You got lost following the road the first day you were here,” he reminded her wryly.

  “Now there’s the truth. Onc’t I’ve traveled a place, I cain find it again, though.”

  “Straight off, or after you’ve wandered awhile?”

  Lovejoy laughed. “Now there’s a poser.” They rode a bit farther, then she pulled back on the reins. “Whoa.”

  “What’re you stopping for?” Daniel scowled at her as she dismounted.

  “I’ll jist be a minute.”

  “We don’t have time to waste. Didn’
t you hear me? Women and children are sick!”

  “We’ll have need of these.” She didn’t pay no nevermind to his grumpy ways—men ofttimes got that way when a loved one was ailin’. If anything, it did her heart good to meet a man who showed such devotion to the children and women in his life. It was an admirable trait. Lovejoy took out her knife and harvested rames of mustard and put them in her gathering sack. It took such little time to glean a fair supply, and mustard— even dried mustard—made effective poultices. Whatever she didn’t use in the next day or so could be preserved.

  Daniel growled under his breath, “You’re liable to step on a snake out here.”

  “Nope. The horses are too calm.” She tucked her knife back in the sheath.

  Vexed as he was, Daniel minded his strength and gently boosted her back into her saddle. “No more stops.”

  “Fair enough. I got what I need now.” She patted his hand. “You got yourself five brothers, but I got myself five sisters. I know what it is to love and fret o’er family. I promise to look after ’em for you.”

  Lovejoy didn’t bother to ask where everyone was when they reached Chance Ranch. She could hear the girls’ coughs from the barnyard. “Hoo-oooo-eeyy. They’s a-barkin’ all right.”

  “It’s not whooping cough, is it?” Worry tightened his features as he dismounted.

  “Rest your mind. That ain’t nothin’ like the whoopin’ cough.” Lovejoy accepted her valise from him after he helped her down. “I aim to make poultices for the lassies. They’ll reek to high heaven, and the smell’s likely to send poor Delilah into spasms. Best I prepare them o’er in your cabin. We cain have Miriam bring her babe in there, too.”

  Some things could be done by rote. Dicing onions and mustard, frying them in lard, and fixing them into poultices was stinky, but Lovejoy did it automatically. The girls stumbled along on their own, and Daniel brought along the cradle as Miriam toted Caleb into the girls’ cabin. “Tuck ’em in and be shore they all have socks on their feet.”

  “I don’t wanna eat that. It’s yucky,” Ginny Mae whined.

  “You don’t have to eat it,” Lovejoy promised. “Now clamber into the bed with your sister. Dan’l, I want their heads up higher. How ’bout you go stuff a couple feed sacks with hay? Those’ll be right fine extry pillows.”

  “I’ve got extra pillows.”

  “Don’t aim to use ’em. The stink’ll get a-holt of the feathers and won’t turn loose. Oh, one more thing: I got a mind to put together a stock of essentials for this ranch. Keepin’ the girls out of the stuff ’s important. What say I use that loft up there?”

  “As long as you move the ladder afterward so they can’t climb up.”

  Once Daniel stepped out, Lovejoy pointed her chin toward the chair. “Miriam, go have a seat. I venture your son ain’t sucklin’ none too good, what with his nose all stuffy.”

  “He’s not, but I know he’s hungry.”

  “Wipe his nose best you cain. I aim to have him catch a whiff of camphor. That’ll holp.”

  A few minutes later, Miriam had a shawl over her shoulder. “It’s working. He’s doing better.”

  The plasters worked, too. By suppertime both girls still coughed but were able to eat soup and a biscuit. Caleb wasn’t as cranky, either. Miriam decided to take him back to her place. Daniel fetched himself a cup of coffee and brought back a mug for Lovejoy. She smiled her thanks.

  “So are they cured?”

  “Nope. We got the symptoms reined in. This’ll play out another two, three days. Coughs like to stay ’round for ’bout a week all told. Gotta keep ’em sippin’ warm drinks, breathin’ steam from the teakettle, and lying ’round. Don’t want it to sink into pneumony.”

  “You’ll come back tomorrow?”

  Lovejoy gave him an amused look. “I aim to stay here. If you’ll keep an eye on the sprouts, I’ll go see ’bout holpin’ the mamas-to-be.”

  “But you can’t stay here. This cabin and mine are connected.”

  “I’m a proper woman, and I ’spect yore a proper man. Decent folk ain’t gonna imagine any horseplay, ’specially with sick young’uns at hand. Come bedtime, you’ll kiss your daughters and go mind yore own business for the night, and I’ll bolt yon door that goes to yore place.”

  Booted out. She’d gone and done whatever she deemed necessary for Delilah and Alisa then had come back and booted him right out of the girls’ cabin. Daniel sat on his bed and strained to hear if they needed him. All he heard were his daughters’ coughs and the soothing murmurs of a mountain woman.

  He didn’t like this one bit.

  Two minutes later he slammed his door and walked out through the yard to the door of the girls’ cabin. He didn’t want to go through the hallway. No skulking around for him, no sir. He was heading out there where every last man jack on the place could see and hear him so no one would misconstrue this as anything improper.

  He raised his hand to knock, but before his knuckles made contact, the door opened.

  Lovejoy let out a surprised squeak. “Is something a-wrong?”

  “What’s wrong is, those are my girls. I don’t leave ’em with strangers. They need me.”

  “They need water.” Lovejoy stuck the bucket she’d been holding into his hands and promptly shut the door again.

  Chapter 9

  Vexed that he hadn’t gained entrance, yet equally irritated with himself for not having seen to such a basic need, Daniel stomped to the water pump. Water splashed over the brim and dampened his fingers. His temper cooled. If anything, this gave him an excuse to march straight back into the cabin.

  The door opened. “Thankee, Dan’l.” Lovejoy reached for the bucket.

  He ignored her and brushed right past. Wordlessly, he topped off the pitcher on the washbasin and sloshed more water into the empty pot on the stove.

  “That’s kindly of you.” Lovejoy shut the door but stood by it.

  Daniel knew she wanted him to leave; he turned away, picked up a log, and opened the grate on the potbelly.

  “I just added a log. The fire’s fine.”

  “It’ll grow cold soon.” He prodded the log already in there to make space.

  “When that time comes, I’ll add to the fire. No use wastin’ wood or makin’ the cabin smoky.”

  Any other woman saying those words would be quibbling; Lovejoy said them so calmly and quietly, Daniel couldn’t very well grouse.

  “No use having a hardworkin’ man chop more wood when the fire’s already fine.” She gestured toward his daughters. They’d slept through the whole exchange. “Peaceable as a pair of played-out kittens.”

  “They’re coughing.”

  “Aye, they are. I’m not aimin’ to stop all the coughin’. Best that they bring up what ails ’em ’stead of keeping down low in their lungs. You needn’t fret, Dan’l. I’ll keep a weather eye on your precious lasses.”

  “You’re a stubborn little woman, aren’t you?”

  Lovejoy hitched one shoulder. “Reckon there’s a heap of truth behind that. I wrastle the enemy called sickness. Gotta be just as hardheaded and dauntless as him. If ’n you went to battle, you wouldn’t want no one marchin’ alongside you that would turn tail and run at the first skirmish. You come and got me to fight for your daughters. I ain’t gonna flee jist ’cuz you suddenly ain’t shore I cain stay awake on my watch.”

  “I’m not a man to ask others to fight my battles. They’re my daughters.”

  “No one said contrary. Problem is, you’re a-comin’ to this battle unarmed. You ain’t got the proper weapons for the enemy of illness. Like it or nay, your daughters need me. You fetched me; standing here all night argufying ain’t doin’ them a lick of good.”

  Her words carried a sting of truth. Daniel looked over at his precious babies. “They’re sleeping fine now.”

  “That they are. I give ’em another hour or so; then they’ll be needin’ some elixir. ’Round ’bout the wee hours, they’ll start barkin’ regardless of what they alrea
dy took. Onion and mustard poultices again then. The bitty one, she’s got a raw edge to her cough. I reckon she’ll need sommat to soothe her wee throat then. I’m fixin’ to whip up some sage gargle for her. Come first light, they’ll settle down and want to sleep; but afore I let ’em, I’ll have to get a pint of apple cider mulled with yarbs into each of them.”

  “You sound mighty sure of yourself.”

  Lovejoy took her shawl off the peg closest to the door.

  Daniel’s heart lurched into his throat. What kind of idiot am I? My girls need help—

  “I’m fixin’ to check them dog roses Delilah planted to see if ’n I cain spy another hip. They’re a right fine thing to give these young’uns. Mild enough for Miriam’s little man-child, too. I aim to go get what’s needed. Best you take a few minutes here with your lassies and decide what you want to do. I cain’t fight you and the sickness.”

  The door shut. She’d left, but with the implied promise that she’d return. Plainspoken as she’d been, her voice never took on a bite. She kept a soft tone so the girls wouldn’t be disturbed. Daniel stood over his daughters and fingered the sweet little twirly curls that invariably sneaked from their braids and framed their cherubic faces.

  They need their mama so badly right now.

  The door whispered open and shut. Lovejoy’s raggedy skirt swirled about her ankles as she set the latch. “ ’Tis a wicked cold wind for a summer night.”

  “When it blasts from the ocean, that happens.” He frowned as she went to the washstand and set down a single rose hip. “One? You only got one?”

  Her head bobbed. “One’s what God provided. ’Twould be a waste to get more, anyhow. Moon-gathered hips carry a moisture that causes them to mold. I took just what the young’uns require this night. Tomorra I’ll search about. If I spy more, I’ll gather them, ’cuz they cain be stored away.”

  Thin shoulders rising and falling with a deep breath, Lovejoy said, “Whilst I was outside, I did some soul searching. Those be your lassies, and you’ve done a right fine job with them, Dan’l Chance. That’s saying a mouthful, seein’ as you do it on your lonesome. Cain’t be easy on you or them. Cain’t say as I blame you for frettin’ ’bout leaving them in a stranger’s care.”