Her fussing made him smile at her with tender amusement. He’d been sixteen years old the first time he was allowed to go and traveling with her cousin Francisco had been an eye-opener. For a month, he was entertained by some of the finest courtesans in the city. Everything Logan knew about pleasing a woman could be directly attributed to Francisco’s patronage. When Drew and Noah became old enough, they, too, began spending summers with him. Sadly, five years ago, he was laid to rest as a result of a duel over the ruining of the eldest daughter of a wealthy Mexican Don. Alanza might regret allowing her sons those visits, but Logan would be grateful for the rest of his life. “What are your plans for the day.”
Still giving him the evil eye, she replied. “I’m going over to the Wiyot rancheria to help with the preparations for Green Feather’s Brush Dance.”
Green Feather was his goddaughter and a young woman in the Wiyot tribe. The Brush Dance was being performed in honor of her leaving home to attend Hampton Institute in Virginia. “Do they need my help with anything?”
“Can you ride over and talk to her sometime today. She’s getting a small case of cold feet and Sweet Water’s worried she may back out and not go.”
Sweet Water was her mother. “Sure.”
“Thank you, and do me another favor?”
“And that is?”
“Leave Mariah alone unless you plan to make her your eposa.”
Since he doubted taking his housekeeper as his wife would be an outcome, he said nothing.
Lupe’s return saved him from more motherly directives. He took the basket she’d placed the eggs in, and after giving the silent Alanza a parting peck on the cheek, he rode off. On the way back to his place, he stopped in to see Bonnie, who gave him bacon, a few steaks, and the last of the morning’s biscuits. Loaded up, he finally headed home.
When Mariah joined him outside, he had a small fire going in a pit bordered by stones. Above the flames was a piece of metal upon which sat two black skillets similar to the ones she’d used back home to fry chicken. One skillet held thick slabs of fragrant-smelling bacon and the other a very large steak.
“What do you usually eat in the mornings?” he asked, turning the bacon over with a long-handled fork.
Grateful he hadn’t referenced their kissing, she replied readily, “A couple pieces of toast and tea.”
He shook his head. “Not enough to keep a tadpole alive. It’s a wonder you haven’t blown away.”
“It suits me.” She took a look at all he had cooking, and at the bowl holding what appeared to be the yolks of at least a half dozen eggs. “I see you eat much more.”
“Yes, I do. Man has to keep up his strength.”
His eyes moved over her and her stomach fluttered as if there were tiny wings inside. To distract herself, she studied the height of the flames and how the skillets were placed in hopes of duplicating the setup tomorrow morning. “What are your plans after breakfast?”
“Soon as we’re done here, Eli and I will ride the perimeter.”
“And that is?”
“The ranch’s borders. Need to make sure the fences are intact so our cattle won’t stray, and those that aren’t ours stay out.”
“Is that a big problem—other people’s animals?”
“It can be when you own the largest stand of fresh water and the most grass like we do. Got a neighbor who thinks he should be able to graze his herds on Yates land because he doesn’t have enough of his own.”
She looked out at the ranch’s vast grassland. “Seems like you have enough to share.”
“We don’t.”
His tone made her sense she’d hit a nerve.
He went on to explain. “When I was growing up, there were no fences, but when the settlers moved in they squawked about the herds moving over their land, so the government made us put up fences. Now that most of the water and best grass is fenced in, they’re squawking again about wanting access. They can’t have it both ways.”
Mariah guessed she understood his point.
Logan was just about to explain more but he paused at the sight of Reverend Paul Dennis walking in their direction. Dammit. He genuinely liked the man, but he hadn’t planned on sharing Mariah’s company.
“Morning, Logan.”
“Reverend. What brings you out so early this morning?” The way the man’s eyes kept straying to Mariah, Logan was pretty sure he knew the answer.
“I came to discuss a need for the school but who might this lovely lady be?”
“Mrs. Mariah Cooper. Reverend Paul Dennis. She’s my new housekeeper.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Cooper. I’m pleased to meet you.”
“As am I.”
He appeared to be so awestruck by her, you’d’ve thought he was a miner who’d just found a fist-sized nugget in his pan. Logan wondered how he’d react if he knew she kicked like a mule and threw rocks.
“In speaking with Senora Yates, she said you are a widow?”
“I am.”
“My condolences on your loss.”
“Thank you,” she replied.
Logan noticed that she made it a point not to look his way, but he’d promised to keep her secret and he would.
“Are you a churchgoing woman?” the reverend asked.
“I am. Attended Mother Bethel in Philadelphia my entire life.”
“Ah, one of the most famous houses of worship in the nation. Bethel’s role during abolition is the stuff of legend.”
“Yes it is.”
Logan removed the bacon from the skillet and set it on a tin plate. He hoped Dennis didn’t want to be fed, too.
“Have you had breakfast, this morning, Reverend?” she asked.
Logan went still and gave her a look, which she ignored.
“Yes, I have, thanks.”
Before Logan could exhale his relief and begin an attempt to hurry Dennis on his way, Eli rode up. “Morning. I could smell that bacon a mile out.”
“Go away. This isn’t for you.” The other hands were out working the horses. He hoped they didn’t come looking for handouts, too.
Again, Logan was ignored. “Morning, Mrs. Cooper. Reverend. You step in a bear trap this morning, Logan? See how he treats me?” he asked Mariah.
“I do. Would you like some breakfast?”
Wondering if she planned to feed everyone around, Logan poured some of the milk he’d gotten from Bonnie into the bowl of eggs and beat them with a fork. “Don’t encourage him. He’s like a mongrel. Feed him once and you’ll never get rid of him.” He poured the eggs into the hot skillet.
Eli’s eyes radiated humor through the lenses of his spectacles. “I’ve eaten already, but just for that, I want some of that bacon.” And bold as day walked over and snagged two pieces.
Reverend Dennis was still so focused on Mariah, Logan swore if he and Eli hadn’t been present, the man would’ve already tossed her over his shoulder and beat a hasty path back to his buggy. “Our services begin at ten, Mrs. Cooper. I’m always looking to increase the congregation, so if you need a way to church, I’d be honored to drive you.”
Before she could respond, Logan offered up a response of his own. “If she wants to go, I’ll take her, and bring her back.”
The reverend stared as if seeing the Second Coming. Eli choked on his bacon and began coughing violently. Logan ignored them both along with the surprise in Mariah’s eyes.
The stunned-looking reverend asked, “You’ll bring her—to church?”
“Yes.”
Eli was still coughing and viewing Logan as if he’d never seen him before. What went unsaid was that although Logan generously paid for most of the church’s construction costs seven years ago, he’d yet to set foot inside.
Logan asked Reverend Dennis, “Is there a problem?”
“Um, no,” and he glanced back and forth between Logan and Mariah.
Eli did the same, and shook his head.
Logan held the reverend’s eyes. “You said you had another reason for s
topping by.”
“Um yes, I did. Miss Carmichael’s taken a higher-paying position and has given her notice.” He stopped for a moment to explain to Mariah. “She’s our schoolteacher.”
“I see, thank you.”
He continued, “I know how busy you are, Logan, but I was hoping you’d volunteer to be on the committee to find her replacement.”
“Sure. Just let me know when and where you want to start.”
“Wonderful. You’re always a blessing.”
Logan enjoyed doing positive work, but now, he wanted the reverend to go on about his day, preferably taking Eli with him, so that he could eat breakfast with Mariah—alone.
Dennis must’ve seen that in his face. “Well, I’ve a lot to do today so I’ll get going.” But first, he turned to Mariah. “Mrs. Cooper, it’s been a pleasure making your acquaintance.”
“Same here, sir.”
“I’ll see you and Logan in church on Sunday.”
“Looking forward to it.”
His next words were directed squarely at Logan. “As am I.”
Logan kept his face void of expression. “Thanks for stopping by.”
“You bet.” Eyeing Mariah one last time, he walked away.
Mariah asked, “Is he as nice as he seems?”
Logan concentrated on handing her a plate and sitting down with his own. He left the answering to Eli.
“Yes, he is. Does a lot to raise the race, and, he’s looking for a wife.”
“Is he?”
Logan watched her turn and view the departing reverend with what appeared to be interest. He was so taken aback, he accidently knocked over his plate. The eggs, steak, bacon, and biscuits stared up at him from the dirt. He growled and speared Eli with a look that was met with all the innocence of an angel.
“Oh no,” Mariah responded disappointedly. “And after all your work.” She had her plate safely in hand. “Here, take some of mine, I’ll never be able to eat all this.”
Thoroughly disgusted, he declined. “Quite all right. I’ll grab something later. I need to get to work. Let’s go, Eli.”
Barely hiding his mirth, Eli walked to his horse and mounted up, while Logan struck out for the stable to get Diablo.
As they rode off, Logan saw Mariah seated in the grass, happily eating her breakfast—alone.
Chapter 11
Logan looked at the cut in the fence and angrily scanned the surrounding foothills as if searching for the perpetrators.
“Wiley, again?” Eli asked while visually surveying the area, too.
“More than likely. He’s the only one around dumb enough not to care what we think about him trespassing.”
Arnell Wiley had been a pain in the ass since moving into the area a year ago. He ran a dairy operation, and why he’d purchased land with sparse grass and no water showed how little he knew about the business. Word was he’d been a store clerk back in Kansas and came to California to start over. He was as pretentious as he was irritating.
“You going to talk to him again?”
”Yeah. I have to ride over and see Green Feather, so I’ll swing by his place when I’m done there.”
“I’ll put a crew of night riders together to keep an eye on things out here.”
“Good.” Logan surveyed the tracks left by the cows. “Looks like he had the whole herd in here.”
Where they stood was less than a mile from the river that meandered through Yates land. “I don’t want to see a man go broke, but we offered him a reasonable price for his right to water and he rejected it.”
Eli countered sarcastically, “Why pay when you can steal it.”
Logan sighed angrily and looked at the way the fence had been peeled back to allow the herd inside. “I’ll get this repaired later.” One more thing to add to his list of duties for the day, when all he wanted was to be at home with Mariah. “Oh, and thanks for making me drop my breakfast.”
“Had nothing to do with it. Did enjoy the look on your face though.”
Logan rolled his eyes.
They mounted their horses and Eli asked, “You really going to church on Sunday.”
“Yes.” The smile on the face of his friend made Logan ask, “What?”
Eli shrugged. “Remember that roan stallion a few years back? The one that tried to keep us from roping his mare?”
“I do.” The stallion had put the mare behind him and reared and charged for quite a while, trying to protect the female.
“You reminded me of him this morning.”
“I’ll see you later.” Tightening Diablo’s reins, Logan rode away.
After finishing breakfast, Mariah gathered up the dishes and skillets and took everything into the house so she could wash them in the battered metal sink. That there was hot water coming out of the spigots continued to amaze her. She made a mental note to ask Logan where the boiler was located, and what she needed to do to ensure she had hot water when needed. Only then did it occur to her that she had no idea where he kept the soap, but it didn’t matter: there was a wealth of buckets and brushes and other cleaning items left on the back porch after the clutter detail. A quick search turned up a small pail of flaked soap. She chiseled some out with a spoon, dropped the globs into the water, and used her hand to swish it around until it began to foam.
While she washed the dishes, she set her passionate encounter with Logan aside for a moment and thought back on Reverend Dennis’s visit. He was a decidedly handsome man: tall, dark, and although lacking the mountainlike stature of Logan and Eli, he’d impressed her with his kind and courteous manner. That he was interested in her was plain. In fact, he seemed unable to stop taking peeks at her and that made her smile. Eli said the man was looking for a wife, and from Mariah’s initial impression a girl could do worse. Scrubbing the plates, she wondered what it might be like to be married to a preacher. Back in Philadelphia, her pastor’s wife held a special place in the hearts of the congregation. She was well respected and known for her quiet, calm nature. Mariah couldn’t remember her ever raising her voice in anger, and was certain she’d never kicked or thrown rocks at her husband. Those thoughts brought her mind back to Logan. Why in the world had he offered to take her to church when, on the ride from the train station, she distinctly remembered him saying he didn’t attend church? Was she correct in assuming it had to do with the reverend’s invitation? If that was the case, she couldn’t for the life of her understand why he’d care. One would think he was jealous, but Mariah knew better. Did he think she’d let the reverend kiss her the way she’d let him? Even though Reverend Dennis appeared quite taken by her, he hadn’t given her any reason to think he’d do something so ungentlemanly, or would speak to her as scandalously as Logan had. Would his kisses leave her breathless and throbbing? Remembrance rose on the heels of that, along with being called querida in a tone of voice that made her senses bloom again. Deciding she didn’t need to be thinking about any of this, she focused her thoughts on more tangible concerns, like, How would the congregation view her?
Being a housekeeper, she wasn’t expecting to have any status in the community, but she hoped they’d be kind and not whisper behind their hands about her odd-colored eyes. Growing up, in addition to being cruelly named Witch Hazel, she’d also suffered slings and arrows about her light-colored skin. “Straw Hag,” some of her classmates called her derisively, along with “uppity” and “light bright—damn near white,” even though she wasn’t close to being pale enough to pass herself off as anything other than a woman of the race. Her mother seemed to have issues with her coloring as well, which only added to Mariah’s low opinion of her looks. Although she wasn’t the only bright-skinned child among her peers, she had drawn the cruelest remarks. Her mother explained the cause as “those ugly gold eyes of yours.” Thinking of her mother, she wondered again how she might be faring, then went back to the dishes.
Once she was done, she put everything away in the battered cupboards and decided to do some housecleaning. At home,
she had begun her day by removing the day-old ashes from the stove and refilling it with new kindling so it could be lit for the breakfast meal, but because there was no stove, she instead went through the house and gathered the glass chimneys from all the lamps and set them in a sink of fresh, soapy dishwater. They needed washing in order to rid them of the soot and grime caused by the kerosene used to light them.
When they were all clean and sparkling, she spent a few moments trimming all the lamp wicks with a pair of sharp scissors before replacing the chimneys.
Kerosene was foul smelling and once the house had furniture and curtains, she’d have to wash the drapes weekly and wipe down the furniture daily to rid them of the smoke, soot, and fumes.
Since all the windows were clean and the clutter removed, she decided to take up the rugs and give them a sound beating. After that, she’d scrub the floors.
Alanza placed the flowers she was carrying at the base of her husband’s headstone and stepped back. Today was his birthday and although her grief had run its course, she still missed him very much. The family cemetery was on the far north end of the ranch and held the remains of her grandparents and parents. When her time came, her grave would be there, too. She visited his resting place often—to talk, to reminisce, to vent, but mostly to think back on the day Max Rudd and the others brought his lifeless body home. She’d been so devastated by the sight, she’d wanted to join him in death, but knew she had to remain stoic for the sake of her equally devastated sons. Only after they’d been put to bed did she ride out to riverbank, and there in the darkness she’d keened and rocked herself until sunrise. During those first few months of widowhood, men wanting to marry her circled like vultures, but she was so afraid they wanted the land more than they did her and her sons, she sent them away. Armed with a headstrong determination to make the business pay, she vowed to go it alone, but as she’d noted earlier, she didn’t know anything about doing it properly and eventually paid the ultimate price for that ignorance. The business floundered, and in spite of her clawing and scratching and praying, their way of life plummeted so far that there came a day when she had nothing to feed her children. Her father, who’d refused to help even when Abraham was alive, had passed away a few years earlier, and her mother soon after. Her only other family was her father’s brother residing in Yerba Buena. Pride and the remembrance of the shame she’d brought down on her parents kept her from asking for his assistance earlier, but after looking into the hollow eyes of her starving sons, she swallowed that pride, put them in a wagon and drove to Yerba Buena. Once there, she dropped to her knees before her uncle and begged.
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