“I’ll ride over in a few days to check on you, if that’s all right.”
Crystal mumbled, “All right, Josh.” After speaking with Mary, she slid from the parlor and down the hall to her room. But she could not rest, and now, as she stood looking out toward the barn, she realized the hammering had stopped.
With a heavy heart, Crystal sat down in the rocker. She leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and let the tears flow. Once again her world was changing. Her dear aunt was gone. Her loving father, her mother, and Drew. Was she destined to have those dearest to her always leave? Part of what hurt so badly was that she had lived and Kate had died. The vision of her aunt being lifted by the twister flashed through her mind once again. How would she ever replace that memory?
After the funeral, even Carmen had to return to her family because she was needed desperately at home. Her mother had her hands full with seven children, and her sister was having a baby. Carmen hadn’t wanted to leave right after the funeral, but she promised to return as soon as possible.
Crystal felt so weary, but now she was all cried out. She was tired of being strong. For once she wished someone would take care of her. There was no reason to return to Georgia, and she didn’t know if she could stay in this rugged country. She did know that her aunt had loved the ranch and had worked hard to hold on to it.
Since Kate had borrowed from McBride, Crystal realized she had two choices. Sell and get out, or stall until the beef was shipped—something she knew little about, if anything.
Crystal pulled her wits about her. McBride would never own Aspengold! Oh, Lord, please give me direction. I can’t do this alone. Help me to know Your way and walk in it, and give me peace tha can only come through You, she prayed. Crystal knew that God would make a way for her.
Crystal decided that night to stay and fight. She had already lost one home. But this was the home she wanted to keep. Having made the decision, she felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. She felt a little peace and slipped into a dreamless sleep.
Mornings were getting cooler since the rain had stopped, and Crystal stood listening to the stillness. It was so quiet, and she was acutely aware of Kate’s absence. How she missed her laughter and warm hugs. She felt like she was just going through the motions of living in order to have something to do.
With Carmen gone, she knew she must now cook for the boys, so she had risen early. After a strong cup of coffee to get her going, she had poked the cold ashes in the stove to start a fire to make biscuits. Now she stepped back into the kitchen to place sausages in the heavy cast-iron skillet on a low, simmering fire. She picked up the egg basket and made her way out to the chicken coop to gather eggs. She had meant to do that yesterday afternoon but had gotten busy and had forgotten. Rarely had she ever been near a chicken house, much less fried an egg, but it all looked rather simple. She remembered how Fanny, her cook in Georgia, gathered the eggs every day. Crystal’s specialty had always been pies. That and biscuits were the cooking she had mastered. Well, she’d just have to start learning something new.
It was a fine, beautiful morning, and the sun just peeked over the dark purple ridges, bathing the valley with a golden hue. Crystal, an obstinate set to her straight shoulders, stepped up the pathway to the henhouse as a sharp breeze tugged at her skirts. With caution she entered the henhouse. She was glad she had on her sturdy brogans as she tried to sidestep the droppings on the floor. She thought how quiet the chickens were as thirty-six pair of beady eyes stared at her.
“Nice, sweet chickens . . .” Crystal tried to hide the tremor in her voice as she took a step farther, reached into the nest, and scooped up four eggs at once. Feeling more confident, she tried to be casual and reached inside the next nest, when she felt a sharp stab on her ankle and shrieked in surprise. Several chickens were pecking away at her new brogans and the stockings on her legs. She kicked at them and cried, “Shoo! Shoo!”
To her horror, a big white hen staring from her perch swooped down on her head and began pecking about her forehead as she helplessly flayed her arms to defend herself. The entire chicken coop was now in an uproar, with chickens flying about, squawking, and clucking, and Crystal yelling. Sure that they were out to peck her to death, Crystal frantically made her way to the door. In her haste, she tripped out the henhouse door on her untied laces. The egg basket went one way, and she went sliding on her knees onto the wet, squishy droppings. She groaned as she dragged herself up and looked at her once-clean apron, now covered with filth.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” Luke leaned on the fence post as Crystal wiped her hands on the soiled apron. She could feel her hair sticking out of its braid, and her chest heaved in and out under the housedress as she gasped to control her dignity.
“Just a mere altercation with a cantankerous old hen!” She could feel her face turning red. Angry that he saw her like this and made her feel foolish, she pushed her hair back from her brow with a shaking hand. That was the last time she’d set foot in that stinky chicken coop.
“What’s the matter? They didn’t like your perfume?” he joked as he plucked a chicken feather from her hair. She watched as he retrieved her basket, strolled through the henhouse, and gingerly picked up the eggs until he had a basketful.
She snatched the basket from his outstretched hand and glared up at him. Standing this close to him, Crystal felt very small. He smelled of shaving tonic, and she noticed the sharp angle of his nose just above the moustache twitching with amusement. Her heart was pounding, whether from the pecking chickens or what, she wasn’t sure. She shook the dirt from her hem, averted her eyes from his, and smoothed the folds of her serviceable housedress. “I thought chickens were gentle creatures.”
He thought she looked beautiful, even early in the morning with her green eyes clear and bright, snapping with anger. “As a rule they are, but there’s always an ornery one in the bunch. Guess you found her.” He chuckled. “Hey, a little dirt never hurt anyone.”
“Breakfast will be ready in thirty minutes.” She whirled and headed back to the kitchen, shoelaces trailing in the dust, and slammed the screen door behind her.
Luke watched her go and wondered why she always seemed irritated with him. Thank goodness all women weren’t that way. He wondered if she had ever been kissed by that Drew fellow, the one she had mentioned when she had been unconscious. Well, Drew could have her. Couldn’t even gather eggs. No doubt Drew would have servants to do such as that for her. A helpless female didn’t fit into Luke’s plan at all.
Since Kate had died, Crystal had said nothing about leaving, but he felt sure it would be forthcoming. He seemed to grate on her nerves, and she didn’t exactly cotton to him either. Too bad he and Rusty couldn’t buy the ranch. He sighed.
He missed Kate and her strength and exuberance for life. He missed their daily routine on the ranch and her easygoing ways. But he didn’t have time for daydreaming. There was plenty to do before breakfast.
The cowpokes shuffled into the kitchen. Crystal wondered if they expected termination of employment. Most of them had worked wrangling and punching cattle for Kate for several years. Unlike many cowpunchers who roamed from spread to spread, Kate kept most of them on through the winter.
“Mornin’.” Crystal nodded to them as she placed fluffy biscuits in the center of the table alongside the almost-burnt, rock-hard sausages.
Curly, always the optimist, smiled back, took a biscuit, and started talking nonstop about how they’d lost almost fifty head of cattle. “If them steers hadn’t sought shelter in a coulee during the storm, it would have been over for more of them.”
Luke agreed. Crystal felt that Luke was keeping a watchful eye on her. She did have a lot on her mind.
Crystal served something that resembled runny scrambled eggs, trying not to notice their raised eyebrows when she plopped them on their plates.
Rusty was unusually quiet this morning. Without his normal banter among them, the cowhands kept a wide berth. Cryst
al reached for the coffeepot, filling their cups with the thick, black liquid.
Kurt took one big gulp and remarked, “Strong stuff, your Southern coffee.” He winked at Crystal.
“Strong. You can’t even cut it with a knife,” Luke muttered under his breath. But when he split open a biscuit, Crystal saw surprise register on his face.
Luke ignored the runny eggs and burned sausages and was on his third biscuit when Crystal broke the silence. She stood up and stretched her form to its full five foot two inches, hoping she had a look of authority. She leaned down and placed her palms on the table. Her face took on a serious look. “I’ve done a lot of thinking about what to do about the ranch, and I’ve come to a conclusion.”
Forkfuls of food stopped midair as all eyes were riveted to the head of the table.
“Before Kate’s unfortunate death . . .” Crystal took a deep breath to keep from getting emotional and continued, “She expressed her desire to hold on to Aspengold, despite the hardships of the last few years. For the time being, I will stay in order to ensure that we go ahead with the trail drive and ship the cattle to market. Your jobs are secure for now, but I can’t tell what the future will hold for this ranch. I realize that I have much to learn, and I’d appreciate your assistance in any way that seems fit. We will have to be hopeful and try to secure the best possible price for our beef once it’s shipped.”
“Who’s to be in charge here, Miss Crystal?” Jube asked.
Crystal looked in Luke’s direction. “I’d like Luke to stay on as foreman but report directly to me.”
Rusty stood up. “We’re behind you, Miss Crystal, all the way. Kate was a mighty fine woman and trusted us like her equal. I think that’s what Kate would want, huh, boys?” They nodded and voiced agreement. Luke said nothing. He pushed back his chair, a deep furrow between his brows.
“Oh, another thing,” Crystal said. “I hope you’ve hired a cook for the roundup, Rusty, because I don’t intend to cook for this outfit and ride too.”
There was laughter all around, along with apparent relief.
“You intending on riding the trail drive?” Jube looked incredulously at Crystal.
“That is my intention.” Crystal steeled herself for an argument, and when none was forthcoming she turned to Luke, who was muttering under his breath.
“Luke, may I have a word with you before you leave?” Crystal asked as they started to file out to their various duties.
“At your service, ma’am.”
“Once I’ve gone over the books, I’ll know better where we stand. I’d appreciate your willingness to work for me.”
“Do I have a choice? Just what in thunder do you know about ranching? Maybe you’d be better off in Georgia.”
“Are you questioning my capabilities?”
“Yes, I am, in fact.”
“Please don’t raise your voice at me, Mr. Weber. Save it for your saloon friends.” The dishes made a loud clatter as Crystal began stacking them in the sink.
“I don’t have any saloon friends. You don’t know me at all. And there’s a lot more to running a ranch than scrambling a few runny eggs.”
She drew in a sharp breath and blushed. Try to stay calm. He must have been good at his job, or Kate never would have kept him. His blue eyes penetrated her green ones, and she couldn’t help but notice an odd pull whenever she looked at him.
“I said I was willing to learn, and believe me, I catch on fast.”
“Let’s hope so, because winters here can be hard, not to mention lonely. There are dust storms so thick you can’t breathe, and hail that can wipe out a crop as fast as lightning flashes. Taking care of livestock in the dead of winter can be a dreaded chore. Are you prepared for that? Only the tough survive.”
“Meaning I need to be made of stronger stuff? I don’t swoon at the first sight of trouble.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh . . . I was thinking of April. Let’s see . . . she can brand cattle and have a hot meal simmering, all in a day’s work.”
He chuckled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re jealous.” He took a step closer to her. “There’s nothing wrong with a woman doing all those things and more.”
Crystal took a step backward. “Don’t flatter yourself. As to April, just because a cat has kittens in the oven, they’re not necessarily biscuits!”
Luke roared with laughter, slammed his hat on his head, and strode through the door.
Crystal clattered and banged the pans and dishes into the sudsy water and attacked them with fresh fury. Who does he think he is! According to Emily Johnson, half the female population of Steamboat was after him. Let them fall for his charms; she wasn’t about to. She would have to prove to Luke that she was a lot stronger than he thought.
She was more determined than ever to make this ranch pay for itself. She’d do it or die trying. Dear Lord, please help me control my temper. He rattles me so . . . Help me figure out how to handle this situation with the ranch. Amen.
Luke was glad of the cool, fresh air outside. Imagine her warning him about April. Luke somehow felt he’d been put in his place when he lost his temper around her. What was it about her that made him shoot off his mouth like a cocked gun? She really didn’t deserve being spoken to that way, he mused. Besides, she made the best biscuits this side of the Rockies.
10
Life at Aspengold was anything but routine in preparation for the anticipated trail drive. Everyone rose before daylight for meals and chores, and later in the evening congregated on the front porch. Sometimes Crystal would curl up in a chair by the fire to read her father’s Bible. She fell into bed at night, exhausted but feeling like she had more purpose in her life.
Now it wasn’t yet sundown, but Crystal felt a need to be outdoors after doing the supper dishes, away from the heat of the kitchen. She strolled in the early dusk, the air fragrant with the pungent smell of evergreen and pinion pines. Soon she found herself in the grove of aspens that ran alongside the back of the ranch.
Here the breeze stirred the aspen leaves, creating a quaking effect that suggested a season change was nearing in their green-gold color. Delicate cerulean columbine and mountain bluebells thrived in the thick undergrowth of the forest floor, a striking contrast to deceased conifers dotting the rocky terrain.
Crystal leaned back against a fat, white aspen trunk scarred with holes, understanding now why Kate had so named theranch. She could almost feel her aunt’s presence. A gurgling stream carved its way over flat, shiny boulders as it went farther down the mountainside. The entire alpine vista lent itself to a quiet peace and stillness that she was unable to describe but felt deeply. God had painted the azure blue sky as his backdrop for the majestic mountains. How could anyone doubt that there was a Creator? She was suddenly energized at the thought that God was so magnificent but still cared about what happened to her.
Yet she was lonely for Kate and felt an emptiness that she had never experienced before. More like a longing to belong to someone. She wasn’t sure. She closed her eyes and thanked God for all that He had provided for her since her father’s and Kate’s untimely deaths. She prayed for guidance about her future. She ended her prayer by thanking Him for this splendid country and all that His hands had created.
She couldn’t wait for Carmen to return. Not that anyone was demanding, but she was not used to cooking and cleaning and was worn to a frazzle. Now, looking at her hands that were once soft with ten perfect oval nails, she felt like crying again. Half of the nails were broken, and her hands chafed from being in water constantly. Then she giggled out loud when she thought how horrified Drew would be at her lack of sophistication if he were here with her now.
She bent over to untie her shoes and roll down her stockings, then discarded them both. She threw propriety to the wind, tucked her skirt into her waistband, and headed to the stream. With trepidation she stuck one toe in and then her foot. It was icy cold. Ah, but it felt good and refreshing, and she slowly p
laced the other foot in. She let her fingers trail the water and clutched her skirts with her other hand, then splashed the cold water on her face and neck. It cooled her skin, and she was just stepping up to the bank when she heard the piercing scream of a woman.
Fear gripped her heart, and it beat violently in her chest. She reached out with both hands to the bank but slid on the mossy rocks. She felt something pull at her skirt and turned to find that it was snagged on a rotting log. The scream sounded again, and she struggled frantically to loosen her skirt from the log. The material ripped, and she fell backward into the water and drenched herself thoroughly. The cold water shocked her senses.
Panic swept over her. Dragging her torn, wet skirt and petticoats, she was able to scramble up the bank—right into a pair of black, dusty boots. She looked up and saw Luke with an amused look on his face and his hat pushed back, lazily leaning against a huge boulder as if he had all the time in the world. She was gasping for breath, and he just stood there grinning down at her. She was acutely aware that in her sodden state, her clothes clung to her body.
“Did . . . didn’t you hear that . . . woman screaming? Someone is hurt . . . or in trouble. Did you . . . see anyone?” She choked and sputtered on the water in her throat and blinked it out of her eyes.
“Well, Miss Crystal, what a harebrained thing to do! Go swimming with your clothes on. And you being a Southern lady and all.” He could hardly drag his eyes off her wet, curvy form.
In the distance, the crack of a rifle rang out, causing Crystal to jump.
“Never mind that. What about the lady?” she said.
“That was no lady,” he said. “That was a mountain lion. You shouldn’t be roaming out here this far by yourself. The gunfire might’ve been Rusty trying to scare her away from the livestock.”
Crystal was starting to shiver now and walked right past Luke to retrieve her stockings and shoes. He grabbed her by the arm, and she turned to look up at him. She was so close that he could feel her breath on his skin. The waning sunlight filtered through the trees, leaving just a trace of light, so it was hard to see her face.
No Place for a Lady (Heart of the West Book #1): A Novel Page 9
