The Brides of Chance Collection

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

  God was everywhere around her, just shining His love through beautiful things. This was her home, her holler. She could only wonder if Logan and Bryce Chance saw how special and precious it truly was.

  “I’m glad yore back, Hattie-mine.” Miz Willow pulled the door shut and waved a letter at her. “Lovejoy done writ us back, and I’ve been waitin’ on you.” The old woman practically danced around the cabin.

  “All right. Let’s hear—wait a minute.” Hattie peered out the window. “Where’re the menfolk?”

  “They shot a buck up the mountain with the Trevor boys and brought it back here to butcher it. They took the horses and carried half of it all back to the Trevor place. They left awhile ago, so they’ll be comin’ home soon. I’ve already got venison stew ready and simmerin’ in the pot, and corn bread keepin’ warm in the fire.” She pushed the letter into Hattie’s hands. “Go on an’ read it. I cain’t keep still after that much waitin’!”

  Hattie opened the envelope and began to read aloud:

  Dear Hattie and Miz Willomena,

  I shore was shocked when I got yore last letter. I don’t know ’bout any trunk in the barn nor any carved wooden box. It’s a mark of what fine folk live in the ole holler that you done tole me instead of puttin’ what you found to use.

  By now you’ve spent enough time with Logan and Bryce to see what manner of family I’ve taken on and to know you cain trust ’em as much as I do. So I’m gonna ask you on yore honor to give it all to them. The Lord will show them what to do with it. It’s a jump of faith, but I know you both been stretchin’ yore legs all yore life!

  Yore in my heart,

  Lovejoy

  “That’s shore a relief.” Hattie refolded the letter and handed it back to Miz Willow.

  “It’s a good decision, I reckon.” Miz Willow nodded. “So when we gonna tell ’em?”

  “After supper, I’d say.” Hattie went over to the fire.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  “Did someone say ‘supper’?” Logan’s voice sounded so hopeful, Hattie had to smile.

  “Yep. Come on in.” Miz Willow put the letter in her pocket, and Logan and Bryce tromped in.

  “Good. I’m so hungry, I could eat Bryce’s cooking.” Logan grinned at the outraged look on Bryce’s face.

  “Hey! You’ve got no call to—” Bryce thought for a moment before giving a sheepish grin. “Nah, there’s some truth in it.”

  “Set down, then.” Miz Willow shook her head at their antics. They were just like the Peasley young’uns, scrapping around for a laugh.

  Once the prayer was said, the food eaten, and the dishes cleared away, Logan went to bring out the checkerboard Otis Nye had made for them.

  “Beautiful piece.” Bryce ran his hands around the smooth pine board checkered with walnut stain and varnished over to gleam in the light.

  “These, too.” Logan held up one of the stained checkers and fingered the carved crown on the top. “Good craftsmanship. You’ve gotta give him credit—Otis Nye knows his way around a whittlin’ knife.”

  “Shore does. It’d do him good to hear you say it.” Miz Willow rocked. “But now’s not the time for checkers. Why don’t you both sit down for a minute, and we’ll have us a little chat.”

  Logan shot Hattie a quizzical glance, but she refused to give him an inkling of what was to come. The widow would have it out in her own good time.

  “Now when we heard you boys was a-comin’ to Salt Lick Holler, Hattie here went and cleared up the barn an’ loft for yore sleepin’ space. Do you follow?”

  “And a nice job she did, too,” Logan praised.

  “Real comfortable.” Bryce nodded.

  “What you might not know is that this ain’t my property. Lovejoy didn’t move in with me—I came to her home when it looked like she’d be marryin’ up with yore brother. So when Hattie found a trunk in the loft—you know what trunk I mean?”

  “Yes.”

  As Logan and Bryce agreed, Hattie could see interest light their eyes. They’d figured the general way things were headed.

  “She came across a few things. I’ll let her take it from here.” Miz Willow leaned back and clasped her hands together as Logan and Bryce turned to stare at Hattie.

  “I found a leather sack and a wooden box,” Hattie elaborated. “We opened ’em both, and the sack held some leather scraps. But the box was somethin’ we had to write Lovejoy ’bout.”

  “It’s what we hoped Lovejoy would’ve written about in her letter to us that you boys brung on yore trip,” the widow broke in. “But it hadn’t been enough time.”

  “Today we finally got word from her about it.” Hattie handed Logan the letter and watched as he and Bryce read it silently.

  “So we’re supposed to see to whatever’s in the box,” Logan prompted.

  “Right you are. So we’re honorin’ her wishes.” Hattie put the box on the table and opened the lid.

  Chapter 16

  Logan stared at the open box in front of him without speaking.

  “Go on and shut that thing, Logan,” Bryce ordered. “You’ve been lookin’ at it since we got up here.” He tapped on the loft wall. “It hasn’t changed any, so stop lookin’ at it, and let’s talk about what we’re gonna do with it.”

  Logan shut the lid on the money. Seventy-four dollars. It was a small fortune, and Lovejoy had just given it to them. But one thing bothered him. “Why didn’t she tell Hattie and Miz Willow to keep it?”

  “I dunno.” Bryce shrugged. “But knowin’ Lovejoy, she prayed on it before she made the decision. Like she wrote, the Lord will show us what to do with it.”

  “I don’t think Lovejoy reckons we’ll just keep it.” The glim-merings of an idea sparked in Logan’s imagination. “I think I might have a few things in mind.”

  “Good.” Bryce put the box back in the trunk Hattie had found it in. “The way I see it, this is your adventure, Logan. I’m only along for the ride. I’m happy to help and curious about what you want to do, but that’s the most I’m going to say on this subject.”

  “Lovejoy left it to both of us.”

  “And I’ll help you with your plan, but I’ve got the feeling you’re supposed to make the actual decision.” Bryce pulled off his boots. “That’s all there is to it.”

  “Fine.” Logan shook his head in disbelief.

  God must have a purpose for this money. And I’m supposed to find it.

  “Bryce?” Logan wanted to run a few things by his brother. “I think we should use this money to help folks around here.”

  “Sounds like a good idea.” Bryce paused. “Feels right. But how?”

  “I don’t think we should give it away to one person. I don’t even believe we should divide the money evenly.” Logan talked through his thoughts. “We should take a good long look at the people around here and what they really need.”

  “Makes sense.” Bryce seemed excited by the idea. “But I don’t think it’s the type of thing where we just buy everyone some canned beans. We need to do something to help that will keep on helping after we’re gone. Like the water pump you had us order for Hattie on our way home from Hawk’s Fall.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, that’s good.” Logan chewed the inside of his lip and concentrated. “That’s improving on something they already have, though.”

  “So what do the people of Salt Lick Holler have that can be used to make their lives better?”

  Friday afternoon arrived far too quickly to Hattie’s way of thinking. Where was the summer going? It seemed as though spring had barely begun, but here they were in June. She changed into her Sunday best to get ready for the doings. She figured it ought to be a lot of fun.

  She helped Miz Willow put her hair up into a pretty snow-white twist and gave her another cup of burdock root tea. She’d be sitting on those hard benches for a while, and Hattie didn’t want her rheumatism acting up. For good measure, she’d bring some more to the sang. Otis Nye might have use of some later on, and it woul
dn’t be noticed with everybody bringing something to share.

  When the menfolk knocked on the door, Hattie handed Miz Willow her shawl and cloak. “It’ll be evenin’ afore we come back.” She handed Bryce and Logan a pan of apple cobbler each before picking up her own cloak and satchel. With everybody excited by the doings, there would like as not be a few bumps and bruises. She’d be ready.

  “Mmmm.” Bryce sniffed the cobbler. “I say we stay right here and eat these ourselves.”

  “And you the guests of honor.” Miz Willow waggled her finger. “Now don’t you be tryin’ to sneak a taste, neither.”

  “We would never!” Somehow Logan managed to sound affronted even as he chewed a piece of the crumb topping he’d broken off.

  “Rascal.” Miz Willow shook her head.

  Hattie thought Miz Willow had the right of it. Logan Chance might be handsome, mannerly, and charming, but there was still a bit of the scamp about him. A woman had to be careful about that. She thought of Nessie’s husband, a good-natured scapegrace who’d ducked out on her a year after the wedding. It just went to show—a boy made a mess; a man made a marriage.

  Not that her opinion mattered much. As they drew near the schoolhouse, Hattie could see that every young gal from here to Hawk’s Fall was already in attendance. It would be an interesting afternoon.

  Hattie steered Miz Willow over to a bench along the side of the schoolhouse so she’d be able to lean back. She tucked her satchel under the bench and took the cobblers from Logan and Bryce.

  “You two go on and chat around before the sangin’ starts,” Hattie said, leaving them to go put the cobblers on one of the tables set up for vittles. The tables were heaped full of bread, biscuits, corn pone, deviled eggs, mashed potatoes, green beans, carrots, stews, a couple of baked chickens, and one suckling pig. Jars of jams and honey sat alongside crocks of butter and pitchers of fresh milk. Pies, muffins, and cake sat off to one side where Hattie put the cobblers, too. It looked as though everyone had gone all-out for the occasion.

  The younger boys were putting together a bonfire in the middle of the wide circle of benches. They’d light it after the eating was done and before the singing began. By then it would be getting nippy, and the sun wouldn’t stay out too long. She cast a look around to see if anyone was missing.

  Miz Willow was chatting with Silk Trevor. Abigail and Katherine were comparing notes, trying to decide which babe would come first. Hattie would reckon on Kat for that—her first two had been quick births. The twins were playing the spoons—on each other’s heads to make the children laugh. She didn’t see Logan and Bryce right away— they were surrounded by a whole passel of folk.

  What did she expect? After all, the Chance brothers were the main attraction here today. Just because she wouldn’t set her cap for them didn’t mean others didn’t plan to. She could only hope Logan and Bryce didn’t return their regard.

  “These are m’ daughters,” Bethilda Cleary said, clutching Logan’s arm like a dog with a bone. Bryce had wisely slid out of range, but loyalty kept him close.

  Lily and Lark made awkward imitations of the curtsy their mother had made the previous Sunday. He and Bryce tipped their hats, but the girls looked disappointed. Had they honestly expected bows?

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Chance. Mr. Chance.” The younger one, Lark, giggled.

  “We heard tell this is yore very first sang,” Lily chimed in. “We’ll be happy to git you anything you need.”

  “We brung the possum stew o’er yonder.” Lark sidled closer. “I’d be happy to fetch you some.”

  “Maybe later.” Logan pasted a smile on his face and looked around for a reason— any reason—to leave.

  “My gals cook up a fine mess o’ vittles.” Bethilda smiled so widely Logan could count her teeth.

  Lily was trying to talk to Bryce, who took a step back for every step she came closer. Any farther and he’d be cornered against the schoolhouse. Logan would’ve stepped in, but he was surrounded by Bethilda and Lark. He looked around out of pure desperation and caught the eye of one of the twins. Fred or Ted—Logan didn’t care which—sauntered on over and managed to step between Lily and Bethilda to snag his arm. Logan saw the other Trevor walking over to Bryce.

  “Ted and I need to talk to you Chance boys for a minute. I’m shore the Clearys will excuse you.” Fred pulled Logan away before the women had a chance to protest.

  When they were safely on the other side of the circle, Fred clapped him on the back. Ted burst out laughing. “Didn’t anybody see fit to warn you ’bout that Bethilda Cleary?”

  “Yeah. Pa’ll sic his dogs on you iff ’n you upset him, but Bethilda’ll set her daughters after you!”

  “I’m gonna ignore that since you helped us out of a tight spot.” Logan grinned.

  “Yeah.” Bryce still looked a bit harried.

  “No problem. ’Sides, Uncle Asa’s ’bout to say grace so we cain tuck in.”

  By now Logan had lost track of which twin was speaking.

  “Iff ’n you know which thing the Clearys brung, keep away from it,” one advised.

  “Stew,” Bryce said, casting a dubious glance at the kettle.

  Asa called everyone to attention to say grace, and then people began to crowd around the food. Logan noticed that the women and children hung back, waiting for the men to finish. When he got to the table, he saw that most of the corn bread was gone, so he put two pieces on his plate alongside chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans. He planned to have a healthy helping of Hattie’s apple cobbler later on.

  He and Bryce went over to where Miz Willow and Hattie were sitting and gestured for the Trevor family and the Ruckers to come join them. There were no seats available on either side of them when Bethilda led her daughters over. No one responded when she glowered around at the people taking up the three benches, much less offered to make room. Logan let out a deep breath when they huffed away.

  As they were eating, Logan tipped a piece of corn bread onto Miz Willow’s plate, then passed one to Hattie. He knew it was her favorite, and he’d been right to think it would be gone before she got there. She flashed him a surprised look, then a grateful smile.

  “Thankee.”

  “Anytime.” He smiled and leaned back. This might just turn out to be a fun evening.

  After their early supper, the men gathered around to toss horseshoes and play checkers in the waning light while the women cleared up the tables—not that they had to take care of anything except dirty dishes. Not a speck of food was left in sight.

  “Yeah!” Logan whooped as his horseshoe ringed the pole.

  “Come on, everybody back to yore seats,” Asa called out, ringing a bell to make everybody listen. “We’re ’bout ready to light the bonfire.”

  Everyone quickly went back to the seats they’d taken for supper, but Logan didn’t see Hattie. Lily and Lark looked at him and Bryce, and the men immediately sprawled out a little, taking up the whole bench. One of the boys lit the bonfire, and in the light it cast, Logan could see Hattie. She crouched in front of a little girl, spreading something on her hand and drying her tears. While the musicians tuned their instruments, she gave the child a hug and sent her scampering back to her mother. She has such a big heart, my Hattie.

  My Hattie? When did she become mine?

  Chapter 17

  Logan pushed the disquieting thought aside as Hattie walked toward them and nudged Bryce to scoot over so she could sit between him and Miz Willow. She smiled and wiggled in, adjusting the cloak behind the older widow’s back to make her more comfortable.

  “What was wrong with the kid?” Logan nodded toward the little girl, now snuggled on her mama’s lap.

  “She took a tumble and scratched her hand.” Hattie tucked her medicine satchel back beneath the bench. “I cleaned it and put some marshmallow salve on to take away some of the sting.”

  They stopped talking as the musicians began to play. Most were like no musicians Logan had ever seen. They sat s
cattered around the bonfire, so noise came from all sides. Fred and Ted rattled the washboard and boinged a mouth harp with youthful vigor. Rooster, who’d shown up just in time for the food, blew into a good-sized jug to add hollow hoots to the tune of Asa’s fiddle. Otis Nye clacked on a pair of spoons with surprising energy and skill, while Silk plucked the strings of a simple dulcimer. Next to Logan, Li’l Nate wailed on his harmonica, making sweet music on the instrument so tiny in his big hands.

  All together, they made the music lively and loud. Logan didn’t know too many of the songs, but he pitched in when he could. Most of time he clapped along with the music, stomping his feet when his hands stung from the evening air and too much clapping.

  “Any requests?” Rooster took a nip from the flask in his pocket and swayed a little on his tree stump.

  “Equinoxial and Phoebe!” A woman called out. Logan didn’t recognize her voice or the name of the song, so he sat back to listen:

  “Equinoxial swore by the green leaves on the tree

  He could do more work in a day

  Than Phoebe could do in three.

  “So little Phoebe said to him, ‘This you must allow.

  You can do the work in the house and

  I’ll go follow the plow….’ ”

  Logan couldn’t help laughing as the song progressed. The man got kicked in the head by the brindle cow, slipped in the pigs’ mud, set the food on fire, and lost the hen before his wife came home. The last verse summed it all up:

  “Now Equinoxial says, looking up to heaven,

  Phoebe could do more work in a day

  Than he could do in seven!”

  A great burst of laughter erupted from the circle, the women nodding vigorously as the men shook their heads and rolled their eyes. For his part, Logan saw the truth behind the words—not that women could do more than men, although some could, but that men didn’t always value how hard women worked to hold everything together.

  Hattie, for example, cooked, cleaned, laundered, sewed, and tended to the livestock like any housewife. In addition, she gathered, dried, crushed, and combined all the plants and things she used to heal the people around here. Hattie did with care and skill what he hoped to do with money—use the things the people in the holler already had to better their lives. If he did half as much good as Hattie managed, he’d have used the money well.