The Brides of Chance Collection

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

  “She went off on a walk with my girls.”

  Tempy smiled. “You sure are nice to share your lassies with her. Fills in some of the ache in her heart.”

  “Because she misses her husband?”

  Tempy let out a mirthless laugh. “Vern Spencer wasn’t worth the cost of the copper pipe he paid Pa for her.”

  “Your father sold her?”

  Tempy folded her arms across the pommel as pain flickered across her features. “Yes, he did.”

  Daniel frowned as Lovejoy’s words echoed in his mind. Them girls don’t know how lucky they are to have a daddy who holds ’em close in his arms and in his heart. He couldn’t fathom what Tempy had just admitted. “What was your father thinking?”

  Tempy paled and got a stricken look on her face. “Forget I said anything.”

  Daniel regretted his outburst. “I didn’t mean to alarm you. Whatever happened wasn’t your fault.”

  Her jaw lifted. “It’s over and done with, and it’s none of your business.”

  If he hadn’t seen the tears sparkling in her eyes, he would have mistaken her resolve for stubbornness. Daniel couldn’t let it go. “I’m making it my business.”

  “Nothing but hurt will come from you digging into my sister’s past, Daniel Chance. Best you leave things alone. She’s built herself a life again, and I won’t let anyone hurt her.”

  He sat there and weighed his words carefully. “Your sister matters to me. I wouldn’t hurt her—ever. It tears me apart to think your father treated her that way.”

  “What do you mean, Lovejoy matters to you?”

  “I care for her.” He paused. “A lot.” The admission didn’t come easily, but he knew from the guarded look on her face that he had to be more forthcoming. “I care enough that I’ve discussed it privately with one of my brothers.”

  Tempy’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  Daniel smiled wryly. “I’m not sure who’s more surprised—you at the news or me for confessing it.”

  “Are you declaring your love and intentions, Daniel Chance?”

  “It’s not like when I fell in love with my Hannah, so I can’t say it’s true love.” He let out a long, slow breath. “Time will tell, but I can tell you this much: I hold a deep tenderness and respect for her.”

  “Better you’re honest about that and taking time to be sure than that she gets her heart broke.” She studied him at length. “Lovejoy hasn’t told you a thing about her husband, has she?”

  “No.”

  “I’m going to trust you, Daniel. I’m not sure why.”

  “It’s because you want your sister to have the same happiness you’ve found.” He relaxed his grip on his reins.

  She nodded. “That would be a grand miracle.”

  “So tell me.” He fought to keep an angry edge from his voice as he bade, “Start with why your father sold her.”

  Chapter 18

  Pa needed the copper and sugar. Lovejoy was sixteen, so he reckoned he could get a bride price and not have to feed her anymore.”

  Aghast, Dan stared at Lovejoy’s sister.

  “Pa ran—runs—a bootleg still. It broke down, and he needed the copper tubing to make it work again. That and four pounds of sugar. He traded his firstborn daughter for them.”

  Daniel dreaded asking, but he had to. “Did her husband treat her any better?”

  “Worse. After she lost the babe—”

  His mind reeled. Daniel held up a hand and blurted out, “Lovejoy had a child? She’s never said—”

  “No.” Tempy stayed silent for a moment then sighed. “Almost seven moons into the carrying, Lovejoy came down sick, and Vern was off somewhere. He’d take off for weeks at a time. She was all by herself when she lost the babe.” Tears choked her voice. “It was an awful time.”

  Daniel wiped his hand down his face as if it would clear the horror from his mind. Lovejoy loved babies. She’d been alone and lost her very own.

  “When Widow Hendricks said Lovejoy couldn’t have more children, Vern tried to sell her back to Pa.”

  “He didn’t deserve Lovejoy or any of her children.”

  “I agree. Might be wicked of me to say, but I thought about dancing on that man’s grave for what he did.”

  His grave. Lovejoy was a widow, and that fact took on a whole new significance. Daniel felt a small spurt of satisfaction and relief. “He died. When?”

  “Four years back.”

  Daniel’s brow furrowed. “She got married at sixteen.”

  Tempy didn’t make him ask. “My sister’s twenty-four. She put up with Vern Spencer for four long years.”

  Four years of a horrible marriage. The thought staggered him. Scrambling to reassure himself things had gotten better, Dan nodded. “So after he died, Lovejoy apprenticed herself to a midwife?”

  Tempy clamped her lips together.

  His heart wrenched. Lovejoy had endured so much, yet Daniel sensed there was more bad news.

  “Lovejoy didn’t wait that long. Once she buried her own babe, she went to Widow Hendricks and learned her healing ways in order to be there for other women so they wouldn’t be alone in their times of need.” After a pause, she added on quietly, “Even when those women were having babes Vern Spencer fathered.”

  What was a man to say in response to such a revelation? Dan wanted to bellow in anger that Lovejoy had endured so much.

  Uneasily shifting in the saddle, Tempy wiped away tears. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It was wrong of me.”

  “No, Tempy. I needed to know.”

  “Lovejoy never talks of it. Please don’t say anything to her.”

  “Everything you’ve said was in confidence. You have my word.”

  “Don’t even tell her you saw me.” Tempy gulped in a noisy breath. “I’ll just go visit another day.” He no more than nodded, and she turned the mare and raced back toward the MacPherson spread.

  Lovejoy. Daniel kneed Cooper toward town. What an incredible woman. Life battered her, but she’d come through with a sunny attitude and an open heart. Admiration for her filled him.

  The first time they met, she’d been singing. Since then she’d had a kind word for everyone.

  And she wasn’t one just to talk. The woman jumped in with both feet and helped in countless ways, always with a cheerful heart. Just last week Bryce remarked that if she was any busier, she’d have to be twins.

  The thought of Lovejoy patiently tending Alisa took on a whole new significance. She alone knew the loss Alisa might face, yet she kept her own experience a secret so Alisa wouldn’t have more cause to worry. Lovejoy bore the burden of that worry in complete silence. Her courage humbled Dan.

  Suddenly, the words he’d said to Lovejoy as she did laundry weeks ago shot through his mind. If all it took to make your grief go away was a couple of prayers, then you must not have loved your husband the way I loved my wife.

  He groaned aloud at the memory of those words. What kind of man would be uncaring and unfaithful to his bride? Instead of being cherished, she’d been treated like chattel. Her marriage was a nightmare, not a dream.

  How could I have known? Lovejoy always finds the good in people and appreciates everything around her. She never acts as if she ever walked through the valley of the shadow of death. Every hope a woman held dear was taken from her—the babe she carried, the ability to ever bear another one, the love of a mate, the simple dignity of being treated with respect….

  Beneath her practical, capable exterior, Dan knew Lovejoy had the tenderest of hearts. How could she deliver other women of her own husband’s children? How did she stand seeing them day in and day out? Marriage brought her nothing but humiliation and heartbreak, yet she’d overcome it.

  The truth hit him. I’ve been so caught up in my sorrow, I kept looking at my loss. I never stopped to thank God for the blessings I had.

  “Lord, You gave Hannah and me three happy years of loving one another. The girls, Father—You gave me two daughters to cherish.
I’ve been lost in grief, but it never occurred to me that the very depth of that sorrow showed how deeply You’d blessed me. Lovejoy talks about rainbows, and all I saw was the rain. Help me to look up.”

  Cooper whinnied and cantered by a clump of yellow flowers. Mustard, one of the many plants Lovejoy used to heal others. She was like those flowers—sunny and turning her face toward heaven all the day long. What was that verse? The one about mustard seed…faith just the size of a mustard seed was enough to move a mountain.

  Dan determined then and there to exercise his faith. His mountain of grief had already been shifting and crumbling. Lovejoy told him days ago that she’d hold him up to Jesus. Well, I’m going to do that same thing. I’m going to hold her up to You, God. I’ll have faith that You can heal the hurts in her heart.

  The children and Miriam were perking along right fine. Now that Delilah was over her morning sickness, she’d bounced right back, too. If only Alisa were doing as well. Lovejoy was doing her best to keep Alisa and that wee babe fine.

  Daniel went to town yesterday and came back without the things from Salt Lick. No one said a word about it. They all felt the tension, but yammering over it wouldn’t change a thing. Today Daniel hitched up the buckboard and took Miriam, baby Caleb, and the girls to town with him. It would be a nice outing, even if the shipment hadn’t come yet.

  Please, Lord, let it come. Alisa’s squeakin’ by one day at a time. Each day is a gift, but we’re all so worried. Keep her and that babe in the palm of Thy hand and rock ’em tenderlike.

  “Lovejoy?”

  “I’m right here, Alisa.” Dipping the rag in the pan of water and wringing it out, Lovejoy made sure she wore a serene expression. “The heat sappin’ you, honey?”

  “You’re just as hot as I am.” Alisa pushed back a russet wisp of hair. “I’m worried about Titus.”

  Instead of filling the cabin with chatter, Lovejoy quietly sponged off the pregnant woman. Experience had taught her folks would talk when they were good and ready.

  “One of the things I love about him is how he always sings or whistles…or hums.” Alisa’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “He’s stopped.”

  “A gal in this condition’s supposed to lie in a hushed, dark room. Your man’s probably trying to be quiet on account that he loves you and wants to do his part.”

  “I’m afraid that if the baby and I don’t pull through, he’ll end up brooding like Daniel.”

  “Then let’s pray on that. I’m a scrapper, and you gotta fair bit of fight in you. Betwixt us and the heavenly Healer, I’m a-plannin’ to dandle your babe on my knee by the time you and me get Delilah through her birthing.”

  “You always say the right thing.”

  Lovejoy chuckled softly. “Wish I felt thataway. Listenin’ to you Chance gals talk, I always think on how wondrous fine you sound. I’m a plainspoken hillbilly woman, and I niver heard genuine ladies’ conversation till I got here. My words are like grains of sand on pasteboard, and every word trippin’ off yore tongues is like diamonds and silk.”

  “In Matthew, Christ said, ‘Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaketh.’ You have an abundant heart, Lovejoy.”

  “See there? That’s what I mean. Now here. Time for you to have another cup of this tea.” After her patient emptied the cup, Lovejoy grinned. “Now afore we pray, I gotta tell you something wondrous fine since you mentioned Dan’l’s brooding nature. You’ve been laid up and not seen it, but he’s a-climbin’ out of that dark sorrow. The man’s got a smile, after all.”

  It wasn’t long before Lovejoy saw Daniel’s smile again. The buckboard pulled into the barnyard, and moments later she heard heavy footsteps. Though they left the door open for fresh air, she’d hung a midnight blue blanket inches from it to block out the light. In cases like this, light wasn’t good for the mama. Sunlight flooded the cabin, then the blanket fell back in place, leaving Daniel standing there. His smile lit the whole place.

  “This came for you.” He set down a box and pulled the bowie knife from his belt. A flick of his thick wrist, and the twine fell away.

  “Thankee, God!” She scurried over and knelt by the box. Lifting the lid, she added, “And thankee, Dan’l. ’Twas good of you to go fetch this.”

  “How is she?”

  Lovejoy cast a look back to assure herself Alisa was sleeping again. The sedative in the tea seemed to be working well, but she’d used the very last of what she’d originally brought in her satchel. “With prayer and all these yarbs, we got a fightin’ chance now. This here’s lady slipper to keep her sleepy and calm. The honeysuckle’ll draw off the swollin’. My, my. Widow Hendricks sent hawthorn for Alisa’s headache, even though I didn’t even ask for it.”

  Relief flooded her as she tucked the packets and vials into her apron pockets. “If ’n you send Delilah or Miriam here, I’ll go to the kitchen and start brewin’ up what all we need.”

  Three days later, even with all the medicinals she’d requested on hand, Lovejoy worried. She knew she needed a bit of time to collect her thoughts and calm her nerves. If Alisa lost the baby, it would be a terrible tragedy—one that Lovejoy related to all too keenly.

  I need to take time to shed my own woes, or I’ll only add to Alisa’s anxiety. The Good Book says a cheerful heart doeth good like medicine. Believing that proverb, Lovejoy left Titus at his wife’s side, fetched her dulcimer, and went to sit on the bench at the bend in the creek.

  Having tucked the girls into their bed, Daniel stepped outside. Soft music carried on the breeze. Lovejoy was playing her dulcimer, and it was a mighty pretty tune. It didn’t take but a second to surmise she’d gone out to that bench he’d made for her by the creek.

  Congratulating himself for having thought to make more than just one bench, Daniel started walking. He figured he’d go sit a spell and listen. If Lovejoy wanted privacy or an opportunity to think over a difficult matter, she’d not be making music.

  Taking the nearest bench and dragging it closer, Dan motioned to her to keep playing and singing. Her brows rose in surprise, but she continued as he plopped down. The last lines of “He’s Gone Away” faded into the night air.

  “You out for a stroll after makin’ sure yore lassies are snug as bugs?”

  He nodded. “It’s nice to see you catching fresh air. Much as you like being outside, it must be making you chafe to be confining yourself to Alisa’s side.”

  “She’s the one who’s plowing the rocky field.” Absently, Lovejoy plucked a few strings. Soon the notes to “Lorena” hovered in the air.

  Hannah had loved that song. She’d hummed it now and then as she straightened up their cottage. The memory made him smile—he’d forgotten how he’d teased Hannah about the fact that she followed the biblical injunction to make a joyful noise all too well. Then, too, she hummed because she couldn’t ever keep the words straight if she kept on key as she sang them. The memory brought him pleasure instead of pain. Almighty Lord, thank You.

  The last measure trembled in the air. “What are you going to play next?”

  Lovejoy’s right shoulder hitched. “Don’t have anything particular callin’ to me. You have a tune or a hymn on your mind?”

  “Hmm.” He thought a moment. “What about ‘Rock of Ages’?”

  She nodded and found her fingering, then started singing. Dan noticed her voice quavered slightly on the second verse. “Let’s sing that verse again.”

  “You’ll be a-singin’ with me?” Her eyes widened.

  He started singing, and she joined in.

  “Not the labor of my hands

  Can fulfill Thy law’s demands;

  Could my zeal no respite know,

  Could my tears forever flow,

  All for sin could not atone;

  Thou must save, and Thou alone.”

  Lovejoy’s hands stilled. “I ken the hymn’s about salvation, but ’tis fitting for Alisa’s situation. No matter what I do, Dan’l, ’twill be Jesus who decides whether to save or take
her.”

  “I know.” He leaned forward. Resting his forearms on his knees, he managed to be at eye level to her. In the dim evening light, he could see the glistening tears. “But we’re thankful for all you’re doing, and we’re relying on the Rock of Ages.”

  Chapter 19

  Athin wail shivered in the air. Daniel held Titus back. “Half an hour. You agreed to Lovejoy’s rule.”

  “I’m not waiting. That’s my wife and babe!”

  “And you owe them both to God’s grace and Lovejoy’s skill. There are medical details she needs to tend to in there.”

  Titus groaned. “I’ll credit God for Alisa and the baby making it. I’m thankful for all Lovejoy’s done, too. But that ax…”

  Daniel folded his arms across his chest. “What’s wrong with my ax? I like to think it helped.”

  “It’s hillbilly nonsense. Putting your ax under the bed didn’t cut Alisa’s pain.”

  Though he secretly agreed, Dan goaded his brother to delay him from bursting into the cabin. “Of course it did. I just sharpened it.”

  Paul started chuckling. “It’s one thing to be crazy about a woman; it’s another thing to be plumb crazy.”

  “Fine.” Dan smirked. “When Delilah’s in labor, I’ll take my ax and go chop wood.”

  Paul snorted. “You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t swipe it and keep it under our bed from now until our baby comes.” He poked Titus. “Notice Dan didn’t deny that he’s crazy about Lovejoy.”

  Titus kept craning his neck so he could keep the door to the cabin in view. He grumbled, “She’s dead set on going back to Salt Lick. If she doesn’t let me in there in the next five minutes, I’ll personally stick her on the next stage out!”

  “You can’t mean it.” Paul glowered at Titus. “Delilah’s going to need a midwife.”

  Daniel rocked back on his heels and shot his brothers a smug smile. “I aim to coax her to stay forever, but Delilah’s a good excuse in the interim.”

  Titus jolted. “Forever? Dan, are you saying—”

  Dan jerked Titus around. “The door’s open!” Whew. I hushed him up just in time.