by Kit Morgan
She supposed she’d have to wait and find out.
Five
The next morning Millie awoke to a pair of little hands patting her face. She opened one eye, then the other. Hattie was grinning inches away. “Morning!” the child said.
Millie smiled back. “Good morning.”
“Mama’s makin’ breakfast.”
Millie’s eyes widened. “She is?” She struggled to a sitting position as Hattie crawled up onto the bed. “I must have overslept.”
“Not me, I woke up early,” Hattie said and crawled onto her lap. The child was friendly and bold. She looked Millie right in the eyes and grinned again. “You like bacon?”
“Yes,” Millie said. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Good, ‘cause that’s what mama’s cookin’. Justin likes bacon too.”
Millie’s tummy did an odd little flip at the name and she wondered if Hattie was referring to Mr. Weaver. “Oh, he does? Who is Justin?”
“He brought you home, ‘member?”
Yes, she was talking about Mr. Weaver. A shiver ran up her spine. Good grief, she shouldn’t be feeling this way about a one-eyed cowboy she’d just met – especially not when she was getting married to someone else! “Oh yes,” Millie said, then cleared her throat. “He did, didn’t he?”
Hattie rolled her eyes. “Silly goose.” She crawled off her lap, got off the bed and ran for the door. Millie noticed the child was still in her nightclothes as she opened the door and left the room. “Mama! Millie’s up!”
Millie couldn’t help but laugh at the announcement, then got out of bed, crossed the room and closed the door so she could dress. She’d best go see if Libby needed any help with breakfast. Not that she could do any of the cooking, but she could at least set the table. She dressed quickly, washed her face, put up her hair and left the room.
Libby was in front of the stove spooning batter into a pan. “Good morning,” Millie said. “Can I help with anything?”
“No, I’ve got it under control. But if you want, you could help Hattie get dressed. Her clothes are in the dresser in the bedroom.”
“Sure,” she said and turned to Hattie, who was sitting at the table, eyeing the plate of pancakes near her mother. “Come along, let’s do as your mother says.”
Hattie looked at her, slid off the chair and ran into the bedroom.
Millie laughed. “She certainly does have energy.”
“That she does,” Libby agreed. “Thank heaven Justin comes by to play with her between chores. It gives me a chance to do the dishes.”
Millie tried to suppress the strange excitement she again felt at the mention of his name. “You mean Mr. Weaver?”
“Yes, he comes by right after breakfast most days and plays with her for a little bit. He plays with the other children too, whenever he gets the chance. I think they remind him of home.”
“He’s homesick?”
Libby turned the pancakes. “Sometimes. I know I miss Beckham and my friends. At least I have my family here. If I didn’t, I’d be homesick too.”
“Yes, I guess so,” Millie said. She wondered how long it would be before she started to miss her own home. Probably not until the anger at her parents and the rapacious Hubert had faded. “I’d better see to Hattie.”
“Thank you,” Libby said. “That will be a big help.”
“Happy to do it,” Millie called over her shoulder as she left the kitchen. When she entered the bedroom, Hattie had already opened several dresser drawers and pulled out at least half of her wardrobe. “Hattie! What are you doing?”
“I don’t know what to wear!” she lamented.
Millie laughed. “So young, and already plagued with the rigors of fashion.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind,” Millie said and went to the pile of clothes Hattie had created. She picked out a dress and set it on the bed. “How about this one?”
“No! I hate that dress!”
Millie examined the light blue calico. “But it’s pretty – why don’t you like it?”
“I dunno.”
Millie pressed her lips together and tried not to laugh again. It might hurt the child’s feelings. “I think it’s lovely. If it fit me, I’d want to wear it.”
“You would?”
“Of course.”
Hattie eyed the frock, reached over and touched it. “Okay, I’ll wear it.”
“Wonderful!” Millie exclaimed with a clap of her hands. She helped Hattie out of her nightgown, slipped the dress over her head, then helped the child with her socks and shoes. After that she took a comb she’d found on the dresser and ran it through the child’s hair. “You look as pretty as a picture.”
Hattie giggled, then ran for the door. “Mama! I’m pretty!”
Millie chuckled to herself as she followed the child into the kitchen. Libby took one look at Hattie and, hands on hips, raised a single eyebrow at her. “Yes, you are, but let’s not start sounding like your Auntie Gwen.”
Millie gave her a quizzical look.
“My sister was blessed with all the looks in the family growing up – and never let any of us forget it. Thank heaven she’s not like that now.”
Millie took a seat at the table. “I don’t have any sisters or brothers, so I wouldn’t know what that’s like.”
Libby poured her a cup of coffee. “Well, let me tell you, it’s no fun growing up with one sister who’s beautiful beyond compare, and another with a fantastic mind. I always felt like I was stuck in the shadows and they were in the limelight.”
Millie glanced at Hattie. “You have a beautiful child. She’ll have her own personality and quirks, I’m sure.”
Libby glanced around and Millie wondered if someone else was in the room. “Hattie’s just like Gwen, but don’t you dare tell her that.”
Millie smiled. “I won’t.”
A knock sounded on the door. “Justin!” Hattie called as she slid off her chair and ran across the room.
Before she could open it, Justin did and poked his head in. “There’s my little lump of sugar!”
Millie sat enthralled. They’d had no such exchange yesterday.
He stepped into the house, swept Hattie up in his arms and kissed her on the cheek. “Did ya save me a piece of bacon?”
“Nope.”
“What ya mean, nope?”
“We ain’t had none yet.”
“Haven’t,” Libby corrected from her position at the stove.
“Haven’t,” Hattie said, chastised.
Libby deciphered Millie’s confused look. “Hattie just got up from her nap yesterday. She’s wasn’t as awake then as she is now.”
“I see,” Millie said as her eyes gravitated to Justin … er, Mr. Weaver. “Good morning,” she greeted.
“Mornin’. How’d ya sleep?”
“Fine, and you?” Millie asked, then tried not to roll her eyes at the question. She shouldn’t be making small talk with the man, especially when one look at him turned her insides to jelly. She certainly hoped Mr. Brown did the same for her.
“Right fine, ma’am.” He turned his attention to the squirming child in his arms. “And you? How’d you sleep?”
“I’m not tired!” Hattie suddenly protested.
“I didn’t say you were,” he countered.
“Mama, I want a pancake!”
He chuckled, let her down, watched her run back to the table and scramble back up into her chair. “Traded for a pancake. How sad.”
Libby set a plate in front of her. “Since you wanted it so bad, you’d better eat all of it.”
Hattie bounced in her chair and picked up a fork. “I will! Give Justin some bacon so he’ll stay with me.”
“As you can see, Hattie’s not above bribing the men in her life,” Justin quipped.
Libby sighed. “She’s so much like Gwen it’s scary.”
Millie made a mental note to observe Libby’s two sisters, Gwen and Bonnie, to see if what she’d told her earlier was true
. Gwen was indeed beautiful, no doubt about it, but she didn’t seem selfish or conceited. People change, though.
The thought made her sober. Would her parents change back to their old sweet selves? Seeing them act so desperate was unnerving, and had only added to Millie’s desperation to leave Beckham. What had Hubert done to them? Or was the blame with her parents and Hubert had offered them a way out of a horrible situation? Regardless, to add her into the bargain like she was a sack of meal or a horse had been the fire that fueled her decision to run.
“Benedict and Lilly are goin’ to Wiggieville tomorrow,” Justin announced as he sat next to Hattie and began to cut her pancake for her. “Maybe Mr. Brown will have sent a wire sayin’ when he’s supposed to get here.”
“Mr. Brown?” Millie said, his words pulling her from her thoughts. “Oh yes! My husband.”
“Husband-to-be, anyways,” he said.
Millie looked at him in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”
“Husband-to-be. Ya ain’t married yet, so ya can’t call him your husband, now can ya?”
“I … well … oh. Yes, you’re right. My intended, then.”
He smiled and took a piece of bacon from the plate Libby set on the table. “Do ya think you’ll like California?”
“I have no idea,” she said as a pang of loneliness hit. California was so far away. What if her decision to leave Beckham had been too hasty? Shouldn’t she have spoken with her parents one last time? But no, if she hadn’t left when she did, they’d have married her off to Hubert the very next day! “I don’t know. I’ve never been there.”
“I hear it has its charms,” he said, then took a generous bite of his bacon.
“You’re early today,” Libby commented as she set a plate in front of Millie.
“I figured I’d get my playtime in with Hattie early on account ya got yourselves a guest.”
Libby’s eyes darted between him and Millie. “Yes, we do.”
“Where’s Nate?” Justin asked.
“He’ll be in any moment.” She turned to Millie. “Nate used to ride out early with his brothers to check on the stock, but we have Justin and the others to take care of that now.”
Millie looked at each of them in turn, her eyes settling on him. “Then what are you doing here?”
“I got the night shift. I go out after supper, then get in around three in the mornin’.”
Millie suddenly wondered what time it was. “Did you get much sleep?”
“Oh, I’m fine. I’m used to it. After I play with Hattie I’ll catch a little nap, then do a few chores, have supper, and head out again.”
“Night shift,” Millie repeated in amazement. She knew there were people who worked through the night hours – there had to be, to keep certain things operating – but she’d never actually met anyone who did. She’d lived a very sheltered life, she realized.
“Weather’s nice, good moonlight,” Justin said. “Prime conditions for cattle rustlin’. The Daltons’ got a big herd, thousands. Takes quite a few of us to manage ‘em and keep ‘em safe.”
“I see. I’m afraid I’m not very well-versed as to how to run a cattle ranch.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll teach ya.”
“Eat your bacon, Justin!” Hattie demanded. “Then play with me!”
“Of course, some parts of the job are extra,” he said with a chuckle. “Eat your breakfast too, you little fiend.”
Hattie giggled and took a bite of pancake.
Libby joined them just as Nate came through the door. “Well, I’ve got a full house,” he commented as he eyed Justin. “Everything all right?”
“Fine,” Libby said as she too gave Justin the eye.
Millie caught the looks they were giving him. Justin was shoving another piece of bacon into his mouth and making a face at Hattie. By the time he looked at Nate, his employer was sitting down, his expression passive. What was going on? Was Justin’s early morning visit a problem? Good grief, was she the reason he came early? Wait – of course she was. He himself had said he was there early because they had a guest.
They chatted pleasantly throughout the meal, and Millie noticed Justin took only three slices of bacon and nothing else. After they were all done, he took Hattie outside to play. Nate followed, so Millie offered to help with the dishes.
“Mr. Weaver plays with your daughter every morning?” she asked Libby.
Libby glanced at her as she set a kettle on the stove. “We’ve established that. I’m sure Mr. Brown will love children.”
Millie looked at her, then turned away. Guilt hit her square in the stomach, making the sweet taste of pancake in her mouth turn sour. She shouldn’t be giving Justin Weaver the time of day. “I’m sure he will,” she finally said.
“Maybe you should ride into Wiggieville tomorrow with Benedict and Lilly. Then you can find out when Mr. Brown will arrive.”
“Perhaps I will,” she said as she gathered the dishes from the table. Her eyes slowly made their way to the door. Justin was just outside playing with Hattie. Why did she have such an odd attraction to the man? And she was attracted to him. But why would she be, when she came all the way here to marry someone else? Perhaps it was the warmth his voice and eyes evoked in her whenever he looked at her and spoke. Maybe it was his simple speech, or that he loved children so much. Or just that he was here to protect her, not use her for his own ends.
Whatever it was, she had to make sure it never affected her again.
Six
Justin saw Nate approach out of the corner of one eye and knew what was coming. He tossed the ball he and Hattie were playing with high into the air, let it bounce and watched her run after it.
“Got a minute?” Nate asked.
“Always, boss. What do ya need?”
“I need you to keep your distance from Miss Porter.”
Justin felt himself go cold. He knew he was battling an attraction for the woman, and apparently he’d been pretty obvious about it. If Abel and Nate and Libby had all noticed it, he had a problem. He sighed heavily and nodded. “I guess I’d better.”
“Look, she’s a pretty woman. I don’t blame you if she sparked your interest. But we both know she belongs to another man, one that’s going to be here any day now. Don’t complicate things. It would be mighty bad for business.”
Justin stopped watching Hattie and looked at him. “I understand. I won’t let it happen again. Besides, what woman would want a man with only one good eye?”
“Lots of them – just not this one.”
Justin gave him a half-smile.
“You know what I mean. If you think you want a woman that badly, talk to Jack and Dell while they’re here. I’m sure they can find you a wife.”
“I thought they turned the business over to their business associate.”
“They did, but they can wire them and get the process started.”
Justin kicked at the dusty ground. “I’ll have to think about it.”
“You do that,” Nate said, and slapped him on the back. “Tell Hattie playtime’s over. We got work to do.”
Justin nodded and slapped Nate’s back in return. He was right, of course – it wouldn’t do to start having feelings for a woman he could never have. In fact, he’d be plumb loco to even consider it. That being the case, why was he so attracted to Miss Porter? He’d seen women that were much more beautiful. Heck, he saw Gwen Dalton practically every day.
But he wasn’t attracted to her, nor any of the other beautiful women he’d come across, like he was to Millie Porter. “Millie,” he whispered to himself as Nate mounted his horse and rode off. “Millie,” he said again, louder now that his employer was out of earshot. “I ain’t got no right to ya. No right at all.” He sighed again, then went to fetch Hattie and her ball.
Once back inside the house, he deposited both with Libby and left as quickly as possible. He’d have to avoid Millie … Miss Porter until Mr. Brown came to fetch her and they got hitched. Then he could congratulate
them and be rid of her and his attraction to her. Once they were on their way to California, he’d see if things didn’t go back to normal. If not and he discovered he had a bad case of loneliness, then maybe he ought to take Nate’s advice and order up his own bride.
But what would he do with one? None of the other cowhands had one. If he decided to marry, would the Daltons keep him on, or ask him to leave because it was unfair to the others? And he’d have to have his own place if he was married – would he be able to build a cabin himself, or would one be provided?
Justin was halfway to the barn when he stopped and scratched his head. “This is gonna be more complicated than I thought.”
And there was one other issue … he reached up and touched the patch covering his blind eye. He wore it to keep the light at bay – he’d get horrible headaches if he didn’t wear it. Would a woman want to marry a man who couldn’t gaze upon her with both eyes? Would the milky-whiteness of it bother her? Scare her? Would he ever be able to go without the patch around her? He usually took it off at night when he slept …
“Ah, forget about marryin’,” he grumbled and continued on to the barn.
* * *
“This is Jedidiah,” Bonnie said with pride as she introduced her eldest. “And this is Ruth.” They were in the dining room of the main ranch house, the only one large enough to hold all the Dalton and Blue wives.
Millie smiled at the fat-cheeked baby Bonnie held up for inspection. Drool dripped from her huge, mostly empty grin. “She’s adorable.”
“She can be a monster when she wants to be,” Bonnie said with a sigh. “She’s teething again. Last night she bit Bart.”
“Of course she’d use her papa,” Maggie, Hank’s wife, said with a laugh.
