The Brides of Chance Collection

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

  Miriam looked at Alisa’s hands and gasped. “Not tight like that!”

  Lovejoy pursed her lips and waited a few moments. “You wantin’ me to spout off platitudes so’s you’ll stop worryin’, or you want me to speak the truth?”

  “You not a spout. You a girl.” Ginny Mae gave her a perplexed look.

  “I am?” Lovejoy made a show of spreading her skirts and looking down. “Well, fancy that. I am! Since we’ve settled that, why don’t you take me to the kitchen so’s we cain finish makin’ supper?”

  “ ’Kay.” Ginny Mae took her hand and led her through the doorway.

  Lovejoy shot a look over her shoulder at Alisa and mouthed, “Later.”

  Not long thereafter, Lovejoy put some lemonade in front of Delilah and a cup of tea down for Alisa. “You gals drink up.”

  Delilah sipped from her glass. “The lemon’s such a big help. As long as Paul keeps me in lemon drops, I’m not nearly as queasy.”

  As if on cue, Paul came in. “You talking about me, darlin’?” He gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  “Unca Paul, Miss Lovejoy’s going to spout on Auntie ’Lisa.” Polly wound her arms around his thighs. “Did you come to watch?”

  Paul’s brows furrowed.

  “I’ll be speaking to Mrs. Chance alone,” Lovejoy announced.

  “They’s all Mrs. Chances, Miss Lovejoy. Which one you wanna talk to alone?”

  “Why does Lovejoy need to speak with someone alone? What’s wrong?” Gideon clomped into the room with Titus on his heels. He sucked in a loud breath. “The last time she took one of you aside, it was to tell Delilah—” He turned to his wife. “Miriam, are we going to have another one already?”

  “Miriam’s in the family way again?” Logan let out a low whistle.

  “No! No, I’m not.” Miriam glowed with embarrassment.

  “Then what is it?” Titus stepped over toward Alisa and gave her a stern look. “You’re too pale.”

  “You all sit down and eat. We got a nice meal a-waitin’ for—”

  “Lovejoy Spencer,” Titus growled, “don’t you dare think you’ll get us to ignore something by waving food under our noses. It won’t work.”

  Miriam let out a mirthless laugh. “Unless it’s cobbler or gingerbread.”

  “Or—”

  “Alisa.” Titus’s voice halted her from adding to the list. “Now what’s going on?”

  “Good thing ’bout big families is they care; bad thing ’bout big families is they hover.” Lovejoy bustled through them and thumped the coffeepot down on the table. “Nobody’s entitled to know nothin’ that somebody wants to keep secret about their body.”

  “Huh?” Bryce gave Logan a bewildered look. “Did that make sense to you?”

  “Someone’s keeping secrets about bodies,” Logan answered.

  “What’s this about secrets and bodies?” Dan straggled in and swept Ginny Mae into his arms and held her protectively. “Was someone done in?”

  “Bloodthirsty lot, these Chance men,” Lovejoy muttered as she headed toward the stove. When she turned back with a bowl of zucchini in her hands, an arc of men surrounded her.

  “We decided something today,” Gideon started.

  “You’re staying here.” Titus added, “After your sister’s wedding.”

  “Our wives need you. The children need you.” Paul took the bowl from her and handed it to Logan, who promptly passed it to Bryce. “You can’t go.”

  “We voted.” Bryce swiped a slice of the vegetable and popped it into his mouth before setting the bowl aside.

  “And you thought I didn’t make sense?” Lovejoy gawked at them. “You cain’t go voting on makin’ a body stay someplace.”

  “Sure we can.” Titus shrugged. “We’ve done it three times already. You’re the fourth.”

  “Y’all voted?” Lovejoy couldn’t fathom this turn of events.

  “All but Dan. He was off choppin’ wood. Don’t matter, anyway. All five of us agreed, and the ladies already made their wishes clear. Majority rules.”

  “Dan would vote for you to stay.” Paul’s voice carried grave, unwavering certainty. “He knows what it’s like for a man to worry about his wife during her carrying months. He’d want you here for Alisa and Delilah’s birthings.”

  “You said you have someone back home filling in as the healer,” Miriam interrupted.

  “The very woman who trained you,” Delilah added. “So you have every confidence in her ability. She’ll take care of them; you’ll be here to take care of us.”

  “Ain’t right for me to presume on Widow Hendricks.”

  Daniel hadn’t joined his brothers when they surrounded her. That fact hadn’t escaped Lovejoy’s notice. He’d stayed back by the door holding Ginny Mae. The man still looked as bleak as he had when he stomped away this morning; nonetheless, he locked gazes with Lovejoy. “You’re needed here. I’ll send a telegram.”

  “Where did all these come from?” Daniel stared at the wagon Lovejoy drove into the yard. Hannah always bemoaned the dearth of flowers in California, but Lovejoy managed to fill the entire buckboard with blossoms.

  “They’re all about you.” Lovejoy swept her hand toward the pastures. “Poppies everywhere, curly dock, fern, and daisies. Pretty as it is, mustard don’t seem quite right for a weddin’, so I didn’t go for any of it. Found me a passel of pasture roses, seep monkeyflower, elderberry. Delilah offered anything we wanted to cut from her flower garden, too.”

  He checked to be sure Lovejoy set the brake, afraid she’d been so excited about the blossoms that she’d forgotten something basic—only she’d been diligent. “Where do you want the flowers?”

  She laughed. “Alisa’s cabin, if you please. She and Delilah are gonna holp arrange them. The both of them have an eye for beauty.”

  “What’s this?” He thumped on a closed crate.

  “Vittles. The gals are bringin’ up more in t’other wagon. Did I remember to thankee for having the grooms come set up the benches? Couldn’t abide having them shuffle ’round there today. Men shouldn’t see their bride on the weddin’ day afore they reach the altar.”

  Like a hen with too many chicks, Lovejoy squawked and scurried about all morning long. Daniel minded his daughters because Miriam and Lovejoy were busy icing the wedding cake. By noontime, neighbors filled the benches, and the parson stood up front.

  Lovejoy sat off to the side up front, her dulcimer in her lap and a wreath of flowers on her head. Her light brown hair shone in the sun. In the weeks that she’d been here, she’d had enough to eat, and it showed in the soft curve of her cheeks, the sheen of her hair, and the feminine form filling her dress.

  Her dress. She’d changed to her other dress—the one Daniel knew was her Sunday best. The woman owned two gowns, both worn beyond redemption. He’d already spied the brides. They all wore new gowns—Lois in yellow, Eunice in green, and Tempy in blue. Why didn’t Lovejoy get a new dress for herself? She needed one.

  Someone must have gotten hold of Parson Abe’s black suit, because it was neatly pressed instead of rumpled. He stood up front and nodded at Lovejoy. Once she started strumming her dulcimer and singing, the MacPherson men lined up at the altar. All three wore love-struck smiles.

  Weddings. The “ ’til death us do part” promise of his wedding vows came far too soon, and seeing others find love and expect a long, happy future made his heart ache. How could God give love, only to take it away?

  Daniel hadn’t attended Gideon and Miriam’s wedding, because it was just too painful to remember the day when he and Hannah took their own vows. When Titus and Alisa got married in San Francisco, relief flooded Daniel. He’d been spared having to decide how to handle another ceremony and managed to put in an appearance at the reception they’d held back here at the ranch two weeks later. That should have been enough, but it wasn’t. In a rash moment, he’d promised Paul that he’d escort Delilah down the aisle. He kept his word, but that stretched him to the limit.

&nbs
p; Flowers and rings, vows and kisses—he knew firsthand those sacred moments truly forged two hearts into one. He also knew the pain of having death tear that heart asunder.

  “We’re ready now!” Ginny Mae’s excited squeal loosened the tension.

  Dan stood toward the back and couldn’t help smiling when Polly and Ginny Mae started down the aisle. Each held a basketful of flower petals. Polly strewed hers with notable grace; Ginny Mae picked up clumps and dumped them onto the ground every now and then.

  He squinted, then his smile nearly cracked his sun-weathered face. Instead of tying ribbons on the handle of Ginny Mae’s basket as she had with Polly’s, Lovejoy had wound wire or thread around a little brownish-black something-or-other to make one of Ginny Mae’s beloved “worms.”

  Woolly worm aside, the color plan suddenly made sense—Polly in pink, Ginny in lavender, and the brides all lined up…a rainbow of pastels.

  He looked at Lovejoy. One stripe short of the rainbow. It was how she had described the land, but at the moment, it also explained the wedding party. Well, that rainbow was missing a color. Something…orangish. Maybe the color of a peach or apricot or, well, anyway, a dress out of that would have suited Lovejoy.

  Only she didn’t seem to mind the fact that her gown looked as exciting as mud. As the brides and grooms paired up, she softly plucked the strings of her dulcimer and started to sing a hymn.

  “By vows of love together bound,

  The twain, on earth, are one;

  One may their hearts, O Lord, be found,

  Till earthly cares are done.”

  Since Obie was the eldest, the parson had him and his bride speak their vows first. Once the ring was on Lois’s hand, Lovejoy sang the next verse of the hymn.

  “As from the home of earlier years

  They wander hand in hand,

  To pass along, with smiles and tears,

  The path of Thy command.”

  Hezzy and Eunice came next. Hezzy wouldn’t let go of her hand long enough to slip the ring in place, so the parson helpfully accomplished that task.

  “With more than earthly parents’ care,

  Do Thou their steps attend;

  And with the joys or woes they share,

  Thy loving kindness blend.”

  Mike and Tempy came last. Ginny Mae tugged on the parson’s pant leg. “Him not Micah. Him Mike.” Likewise, “Her Tempy, not ’Rance.” The congregation muffled chuckles. Daniel didn’t bother. He laughed aloud.

  Instead of being weepy, Lovejoy beamed at her baby sister’s wedding, and as soon as Daniel started laughing, Lovejoy looked into his eyes and laughed, too. She quickly regained her composure and sang the next verse as the parson served Holy Communion to the couples.

  “O let the memory of this hour

  In future years come nigh

  To bind, with sweet, attractive power,

  And cheer them till they die.”

  The hymn had been downright nice up till that last line. Then Daniel decided Lovejoy exercised lousy judgment in her choice of music.

  “You MacPherson men may greet your brides.”

  “It’s about time!” Obie shouted as he yanked Lois into his arms.

  Everyone cheered as the newly wedded couples kissed.

  “Wait a minute. My turn!” Polly motioned to Davy Greene.

  Daniel took a second to realize his daughter thought she was going to either kiss or marry that snot-nosed, spoiled brat of a kid. He hiked up the aisle just as Davy reached Polly’s side. Bending down so he rested his hands on his knees, he said very distinctly to the chunky kid, “Go back and sit with your mama.”

  Polly’s face lit up. “You wanna marry me, Daddy?”

  “I wanna marry Daddy.” Ginny Mae glowered at Polly.

  “I married your mama. She was the only bride I’ll ever have.” He scooped them up in his arms.

  “Parson,” Lovejoy called out, “how ’bout if you declare Dan’l Chance and those lassies father and daughters?”

  Parson Abe cleared his throat, and his voice deepened to sound important. “I now pronounce you father and daughters. You girls each kiss your papa.”

  His daughters both placed a peck on his cheeks. Dan gave them each a squeeze and a kiss. He was glad he’d come to the wedding, after all.

  Chapter 14

  He slept through the night,” Miriam whispered as she tiptoed into the room.

  Lovejoy chortled softly as she finished changing Caleb’s diaper. “You talkin’ ’bout your son or your man?”

  “Both!” Miriam yawned. “I did, too. What did you do?”

  “Not a thing. That’s the trick. At his age, he don’t need to suckle at night. He just got used to wakin’ up and wantin’ company. He fussed a moment, then decided since nobody was a-gonna pay him no mind, he’d lief as well go back to sleep.” Lovejoy handed the baby to his mother. “He’s hungry as cain be.”

  Miriam took her son to her bedroom, and soon the homey creak of a rocking chair filled the cabin. Lovejoy washed up, got dressed, then plaited her hair.

  Somewhere along the line, someone had mentioned they’d recently doubled the size of this cabin—mostly because with the brothers marrying and neighbors dropping by, Paul had built a much-needed second dining table. Adding on allowed a small parlor and let Gideon and Miriam have a room that would be for their children. Lovejoy had moved into that nursery and shared it with Caleb.

  She scanned the room and wrinkled her nose at her reflection over the washbowl. Though never one to put on airs or long for fancy things, she was the sorriest lookin’ woman in the county. All the Chance women wore their hair pinned up, and once Tempy and the gals went to town, they’d followed suit. My hair looks like a silty river a-runnin’ down my spine bone.

  Since I don’t care to catch myself a husband, my appearance don’t much matter, but it surely would be wondrous to move and talk so ladylike. These here women are like queens. Lovejoy laughed at herself. None of that mattered. When she went home, those kinds of trappings and pretenses would be out of place. Who am I kiddin’? I’m just an ol’ hillbilly woman, and a plain one at that. She tied on her boots and went to see about starting breakfast.

  As she cooked, she asked Delilah, “Why do ya’ll go a-buyin’ what grows free?”

  “Like what?” Delilah started setting the tables.

  “Yarbs and such. Thyme, sage, rosemary—why, you could have nice, fresh stuff ’stead of this bitty box you got at the mercantile.”

  Delilah laughed. “The MacPhersons gave me a bag of seeds for my birthday. Paul and I planted most of the flowers, but I didn’t know what to do with the herbs.”

  “Yore lookin’ pert today. What say we fix up a yarb garden?”

  “Oh, I’d love that. I enjoy gardening so much!”

  By afternoon Delilah, Lovejoy, Polly, and Ginny Mae were dirt-streaked and delighted. They shared a pitcher of lemonade and watched Shortstack stalk Daniel as he put up a chicken-wire fence around the carefully laid-out plot. “How’s about we go for a nice walk? I been readin’ that book Paul got me from town. I’m thinkin’ we cain gather up some of the edibles and usables.”

  Daniel straightened up. “Usables?”

  “That book Paul got me in town says there’s plenty hereabouts that’s handy if a body knows what to do with it. Yesterday I seen a bunch of broom. Broom’s wild, and I reckon we cain gather up sufficient for me to make up some brooms—maybe even little ones for small hands.” She cast a smile at his daughters.

  “Poison oak’s bad this year,” he warned. “No going off the path.”

  “I’ll take good care of yore loved ones, Dan’l.”

  “But who’s going to take care of you?”

  Lovejoy slid her hands down her skirt. “You needn’t fret o’er that. The dear Lord does a fine job.”

  Daniel watched them go. Delilah and Polly held hands, and each swung a basket in the other hand. Lovejoy carried Ginny Mae on her left hip and carried both a bucket and her ever-pres
ent gunnysack. Suspecting Lovejoy would find things she wanted to transplant, he shifted the fence line she’d paced off. Five more feet wouldn’t make a hill of beans’ worth difference to him, but she’d be pleased.

  And he wanted to do things for her.

  Lovejoy had faith God would take care of her soul, but that woman needed someone to fill in the little things here on earth. Self-reliant as she might be, that mountain girl needed to learn that others could help her so she didn’t have to scrape by. She put her heart and hands to helping others, and the result was she didn’t pay much attention to her own needs.

  She’d come here and quietly filled in wherever they needed her. Before they’d moved here, Ma had an herb garden. It would be a nice sight, and he recalled how flavorful her cooking had been. She would have loved knowing the place boasted an herb—or as Lovejoy called it, a yarb—garden. Lovejoy was full of ideas and nifty tricks.

  Her latest idea to make little brooms for his daughters was charming. As soon as he finished the fence, he’d go find saplings or thin branches that he could whittle into broomsticks. Maybe he’d whittle a special hook for her medicine satchel. She was always careful to put it up high, out of the girls’ reach. The brass latch on that satchel had been hanging by a small wire she’d threaded through where the prongs had been, but he’d repaired it good as new last night with four small brads and a reinforcing plate. He wondered when she’d discover that. It wouldn’t be a secret when she did. Lovejoy noticed little things and always appreciated them.

  “Hey, Dan!”

  Daniel turned toward the stable. He didn’t see anyone, but it had been Bryce’s voice.

  “The blue’s in a bad way.” For Bryce to call out a problem meant something was drastically wrong. He normally doctored the animals by himself.

  Dan left the bright summer sun and entered the cool shade of the barn. They’d sunk a tidy sum into buying the blue roan last week. For being just weaned, it already stood twelve hands and boasted a sweet disposition. They had big plans for him. “What’s wrong?”