by Cleo Kelly
He stirred again wishing it were as simple with the other two children.
Daniel was wired on both ends.
Baya had to watch him constantly to prevent the kid from hurting himself or the others; the child had no concept of fear. He got something in his head and just did it without thinking of the consequences.
Faith still stood back and watched him distrustfully. She was polite, but watchful.
And Bonnie…what about her? He didn’t know her any better than he had before the wedding.
He eased a leg out of bed and rolled stiffly through the painful job of getting up.
Bonnie was beating batter vigorously. She finished with the whisk and begin to pour batter into the hot waffle iron. The smell was instantaneous, delicious, and mouthwatering.
He twisted his mouth ruefully then raised an amused eyebrow.
~*~
Bonnie pulled the first of the golden waffles out of the griddle as Baya emerged from his room.
She did a double-take and took a deep breath. She had to get use to so much male strolling through her life.
He moved behind her and poured a cup of coffee. When he turned around, his shoulder slid against her back. He leaned against the counter favoring his bum leg and watched her as he sipped. “Have you given anymore thought to going after those cattle? We have to have them down here before snowfall.”
“I’m almost finished with Faith’s room. In another week, I’ll have the rest of the rooms done.”
“Bonnie this is a ranch. We need to find the cattle. If the snow comes early they will starve up in those mountain pastures.”
“It’s only July,” she protested as she lifted another waffle and put it on the stack.
Baya turned her toward him and frowned, a hint of frustration showed through his wary expression. He raised a hand to wipe flour from her face.
Her eyes closed and she turned her cheek toward his fingers. With surprising energy, his hand thrust into her hair and pulled her toward him.
“Mom, do I smell waffles?” The voice was accompanied by the sound of feet running down the stairs.
Baya’s hands tightened, and he gave her a brief kiss before releasing her.
Daniel careened around the corner. “Are we having waffles?” The boy reached for one and Bonnie slapped his hand.
“You go set the table.”
“Ah, Mom!” He peered into the bowl of strawberries. “Strawberries, too!” His hand snaked out again only to receive another light rap.
“You’re the first one up. Set the table.” She began pouring more batter into the waffle iron.
Grumbling, the boy turned away to the breakfast nook and began pulling out dishes and silverware.
Baya settled against the counter sipping coffee. “Looks like you’ve played that scene a time or two before.”
Her face grew warm. “Which scene?”
“With the boy.” His eyes crinkled at the corners and he grinned. “The little boy.” A deep chuckle escaped his chest.
She covered her embarrassment at having been caught mentioning the kiss. “He never learns—he just snatches and grabs. You would think he never gets fed. I do try to teach him manners, but I have never seen him use them. The girls learned table manners. He just shovels it in with both hands.”
“He’s a boy, Bonnie. We snatch and grab.” Baya caught her chin and kissed her again. This time he lingered.
Her breath caught in her throat, and she stared at him as her lips parted.
“Don’t burn the waffles,” he whispered as he kissed her softly again. He released her and walked away.
The shutting of his door released the moment of shock she was caught in. She turned back to the waffles, struggling to keep her mind blank and off the possibilities his kiss had wakened.
By the time Daniel had the table set the girls were up and helping carry food to the table.
She heard the door open and looked up, promptly tripping over Hope. Catching herself and steadying the little girl, she retrieved the butter dish from the tiny hands.
~*~
Hope ran to Baya, raising her arms.
He picked her up tossed her in the air and caught her as she giggled. Carrying her into the little room, he placed her in her chair.
Bonnie passed food around. Scolding gently, she monitored what went on each plate.
He had learned over the last two weeks that her rules were few but ironclad. The kids had to eat everything on their plate before they got more. They used manners at all times. Most of the conversation at the table was to remind Daniel of that fact. They weren’t allowed to tilt the chairs.
His hidden smile deepened.
She avoided looking at him, too nervous or embarrassed, probably.
He had been bolder than the short time warranted, but a man shouldn’t wake up each morning separated from a beautiful wife. They’d made the decision to be a family, and get to know one another first, but it was difficult.
Baya already loved Hope and Daniel, despite his antics, was wrapping himself around Baya’s heart, too. But Bonnie and Faith, they were still weighing his presence in their lives. He sighed into his coffee.
She gazed at him, a wary question reflected in their depth. Beautiful eyes. Deep blue, clear and honest enough a man could trust them forever. Her mouth was meant for kissing. And dang, she could cook!
He smiled lazily back at her as he popped waffle and strawberries into his mouth.
She blushed and turned back to cutting Hope’s waffles.
Hope wasn’t having any of it. “I can do it.” She scrunched her face into a frown.
Bonnie’s eyebrows rose as she handed the girl a knife. “Be careful and don’t get anything on the floor, or you will have to clean it up.”
Hope tried to cut the waffle. She stabbed her fork into it and tore it apart with the knife. The piece she cut was too big for her mouth so she bit off as much as she could handle. The strawberries slid off the bite, and she dropped her gaze to look at the little pile sitting on her plate. With the oversized waffle still in her mouth she picked up a handful of strawberries and tried to put them in at the same time.
Bonnie turned her head away to hide a smile.
“Should we start singing Oh, Susannah?” The deep voice from the head of the table had her looking up at him with a questioning wrinkle of her forehead.
“You know: ‘A buckwheat cake was in her mouth. A tear was in her eye.’” He smiled. Beautiful, generous, lovely.
She stopped laughing as she recognized the expression that filled his face.
The noise from the children faded around them as they looked at each other.
And then his voice rumbled. “Can you drive a tractor?”
She blinked. “What?” The question was no more than an escaped breath.
“Just a farm boy’s observation, ma’am. You look good, an’ cook good. Now if you could only drive a tractor you might be worth marrying.” He grinned. “Of course, if you had a tractor the other two wouldn’t matter.”
“No, I only have a ranch.” She grinned back.
“What are you two talking about?” Faith asked. Her voice was a disgruntled pout as she threw her braid over her shoulder and glared at them with raised eyebrows.
“I’m teasing—”
“Nothing.”
Both of them answered at the same time.
Bonnie grinned and picked up her coffee cup, taking a large swallow and letting Baya answer.
“I’m just teasing your mother. No one should be so pretty and cook so good. There has to be a flaw, so I reckon she can’t drive a tractor.” He smiled into the thin little face.
Daniel piped up. “She’s is the best cook in the world.”
“Aw, you’re just saying that so you can have more waffles.” Faith jabbed at her brother’s motive.
“More strawberries, too.” He shoved his empty plate toward the dwindling stack of waffles.
Everyone laughed, and Baya noticed Bonnie’s exp
ression of wonderment as she passed seconds to the boy. One dark eyebrow quirked upwards in an unspoken question that she didn’t seem ready to face. Standing suddenly, she began clearing the table, and Faith rose to help her.
Daniel attacked his new waffle and strawberries,
Hope put aside her utensils and tore her waffle apart. She picked up the strawberries and placed them on each piece of waffle. Then she picked up her fork and stabbed the food before placing it in her mouth.
That deep part inside Baya kept growing, warming him. He looked up at the closed kitchen door and his heart sighed, “Home.”
~*~
She could feel the coolness of the counter under her gripping fingers. For over a week she had been cleaning, moving furniture, and painting. She was trying to turn the house into a home before school started in September. Bonnie was alone for most of the day. After three years of struggling to keep food on the table, it was nice to just make the food for the table and to enjoy turning the house into a home. Bonnie looked out the windows and viewed the monstrosity of a barn.
Soon Faith would be opening the doors and leading her mare out, ready for their morning ride. The girl’s job was to have the horses brushed and their hooves picked and cleaned, with the pony and Gadfly saddled for her and Daniel.
The big western saddle Baya used was too heavy for Faith to put on his mare, so Baya did that one.
All three of them had fallen into a routine.
Baya did the ranch work and took an eager Faith and Daniel with him. Each morning they would ride off and fade into leafy forests, the tall man on the chubby, short horse, her daughter riding her tall, sleek one, and Daniel on the Shetland pony.
They were never gone long.
The children usually came inside or played out under the trees when they came back from their morning excursions.
Hope was so glad when they returned; she would follow after them as they explored the barns and outbuildings.
In all of this time Baya had never indicated he wanted to change the living arrangements. Today, out of the blue, he started something she had been careful not to think about. She leaned on her arms at the counter.
Baya came through with the other dishes. “If you have a washcloth handy, I’ll clean up Hope. I already sent Daniel to scrub up.”
She ran hot water over the yellow terrycloth and handed it to him.
Silence hung heavy after the rush of water.
“I need to talk to you,” he said his frown looking more worried than angry. “We have to get those cattle down closer to the barn. We also have to mow some of the high meadows and bring the hay down. We need to get this ranch up and running. This ranch is what will feed you and the children, so we need to talk.”
“Can you give me the rest of the week? We can figure out our finances tonight and decide what the most pressing needs we have are. I will have a list of things we need when you go to town later, groceries and stuff. I’ll work fast, Baya. I just want the house in order before school starts.”
He shifted his weight uneasily, and his voice was hesitant. “Things really shouldn’t wait, but what do I know about the needs of a home. I’ll see what I can find in town. We’ll talk when I get home this evening. Maybe if I help you in the evenings we can get everything done before the cold hits.”
5
Bonnie had stopped painting several times to go to the windows at the head of the hallway.
They should have been home by now.
The uneasiness inside was a direct result of the intensity of Baya’s request for a discussion. Facing this future she had jumped into made her nervous, and sticking to things she was familiar with kept the questions and uncertainties at bay.
She was intent on finishing trim around the light fixtures and corners and making sure everything was evenly coated, when engine noises invaded her quiet.
It was not the sound of Baya’s truck. Visitors?
She carried the paint supplies to the bathroom and began washing brushes, then took them to the back porch to dry.
A silver and blue tractor was making its way down the hill. The engine sound proclaimed its outrage at traveling in first gear. The tractor eased up the incline past the bunkhouse.
Baya’s battered red truck swept around it and parked at the front driveway. He stepped down from the truck.
Daniel and Hope scrambled out behind him.
Bonnie blinked and looked back at the tractor.
Faith was sitting behind the wheel.
Baya ran toward the tractor and swung up beside her.
Bonnie’s heart seized. When it began beating properly again it threatened to tear her chest apart. She dropped the brushes in the roller pan and raced to the tractor with a warrior’s charge. “What are you doing?” Her voice came out as a wheezy rasp. “Why is she driving this? Are you crazy?”
Baya looked down, his face shiny with sweat and astonishment. “We had to get it home. Bought it at an unbelievable price. I didn’t trust the man to keep it after the sale so I brought it home.”
“You had a ten-year-old child drive that thing?” Her voice rose in anger, and Daniel and Hope moved away from her. “You had my ten-year-old child drive that! Are you crazy?”
Baya yanked the tractor out of gear, pulling the emergency brake with an angry jerk.
Faith slipped back against the wheel well.
He leaped down and strode toward Bonnie with long steps. “And who else was going to do it? You’ve shown no interest in this project that will keep a roof over our head, food in our stomachs, and clothes on our backs. You want to tidy and fancy a house that has been around for decades. It will be here tomorrow, this winter and next year, as well. I’ve told you the ranch is what will assure us staying afloat, but you’re too pigheaded to listen.
“Winter comes early here, woman! In less than a month, the upper meadows will have snow on them. The cattle have to be brought down and the hay mowed while it’s still possible. If you aren’t going to help, then we will use what we have. Fortunately, this one shows great interest in our ranch and knows how to work!”
Bonnie’s mouth dropped open and she stared first at Faith, and then at Baya. “Don’t you ever put her in danger like that again!” Her voice was icy with anger. Then her eyes widened. “And don’t you ever talk to me that way, either.”
“I’ll talk to you anyway that is warranted. Who do you think you are? This isn’t sunny Florida, lady. I’m not your hired hand, so don’t come the high and mighty over me. I am a working partner.
“This ranch is my livelihood, as well as yours. I’ve brought years of knowledge and know-how to this valley. I can make it work, but I had better start getting some cooperation from you. How do you expect this ranch to succeed?” He moved closer, his eyes narrowed and glittering with anger. “You wanted a family-sitter—well you got one.
“That child did exactly what she was told. She was in no more danger than when you send her out on that trumped-up slat-sided thoroughbred you call a horse. When are you going to quit using her as a dog’s body and realize she has a good head on her shoulders? She, at least, has common sense. You can paint all winter. You can decorate when the snow is up to the eaves. Have you never heard of making hay while the sun shines?” He turned away. “I have to go get the equipment that came with this thing.” Pulling himself into the seat, Baya shot one last angry look her way.
Bonnie was too stunned to speak.
He cranked up the engine and drove the tractor to the barn.
She turned from watching him to find the children huddled together.
Faith had an arm looped over the little ones; it was a poise Bonnie had seen many times, but never turned toward her. They were taking a stand together, siding with the cowboy—against their mother.
The little ones looked nervous, Faith glared at her mother.
Bonnie turned without saying a word and walked back to the porch.
The children didn’t say a word, but ran up the hill toward the barn
, toward Baya, toward the tractor.
She slammed into the kitchen and pulled the food for supper out of the refrigerator. The fear when she realized it was Faith on the tractor would not stop rolling through her.
Baya’s angry words made her cheeks grow red with indignation and hummed in her veins like electric current.
He could have explained himself better.
She shied away from recalling how many times he had brought up the subject of the ranch. She hadn’t thought it was important.
Who would take care of the children? Her sense of justice wouldn’t accept that. They were with him almost the entire time now. He had been excellent with them, too. Not once had he tried to shove them away.
She paused and looked out the window, seeing him, now, pointing out things for Daniel to do.
Hope followed him around carrying something that looked like leather straps.
Faith was opening the large double sliding barn doors so he could drive through.
They all stood rigid against the side of the equipment shed as he drove the short, wide tractor through the doors.
Resentment settled in her brain. They were supposed to make plans tonight, and he hadn’t even waited to ask her opinion. He just bought it.
And just where did he get the money for the tractor? She slammed the stuffed pork chops into the griddle to brown them before baking. She’d get the answer about the tractor later as well. Shying away from the memory of anger darkening his face, she concentrated on her cooking while keeping watch on the situation at the barn. Lord, I didn’t sign on for fussing and fighting. Please help me find a way through this. Let us find a way through this.
The three children scrambled back in the truck, as he backed up to the ranch’s long, flat hay wagon.
That was another thing that upset her, she decided with knit-picking thoroughness.
He didn’t have seatbelts in that truck, which was completely irresponsible with children. But he had spent many meals explaining safety measures to them. He had not complained about dragging the children all over the ranch.
She turned back to cooking, unwilling to watch her traitorous family anymore. Cooking, at least, was one thing she did well. That it soothed her was an added bonus.
