Mail Order Miranda

by Jenna Brandt

  “Is that true?” Cade inquired. “Did you skip feeding the chickens?”

  Miranda swallowed the lump in her throat, her eyes flickering over to her husband. “I tried, really I did, but one of the chickens came running at me. I didn’t want to get hurt, so I decided to wait to talk to you about it.”

  “Was she a gold and brown chicken with a black spot over one eye?”

  “Yes, yes, she was,” Miranda exclaimed. “Why? Is she always like that? I thought it was just me she hated.”

  “I should have warned you about Bridget. She’s a little territorial over the coop. She’s one of my oldest chickens, and she likes to guard the rest of the younger ones.”

  “That would have been useful information before I stepped in the coop,” Miranda mumbled under her breath as she took a seat in one of the chairs. “It’s not like I’ve ever worked on a farm or ranch before.”

  “You’re right; I should have talked with you about the list, rather than just leave it for you on the table. I’m sorry about that.” Cade took his own seat across from her, pulling his bowl of stew towards him. Miranda watched with dread as he took his first bite. He grimaced after the first spoonful, but he didn’t say a word about it, just continued to eat it quietly until he finally spoke up about a different subject. “How about after dinner, we work through the list together to make sure we do the chores that need to be done today. I can show you the rest tomorrow morning after breakfast.”

  “When do you get up, by the way?” Miranda inquired, happy that he brought up the matter for her. “You were gone when I woke this morning.”

  “The rooster wakes me up by sunrise.”

  “When he does, can you wake me up? While you’re getting ready, I’d like to make you breakfast,” Miranda offered with a sincere smile.

  “That would be nice. Lately, I just grab a piece of bread and some dried meat before starting work for the day.”

  “I’m here now, so the least I can do is cook you a hot, filling breakfast.”

  The rest of the meal passed pleasantly. Cade discussed how the cattle were doing and the plans for the next run. Miranda told him about what chores she got done, and asked questions about the list he left her. By the time they were finished, she felt like she was going to be in a better place to start her second day on the ranch.

  6

  A week had passed since Miranda’s arrival. They’d managed to establish a good routine, finding a rhythm that suited them all, except perhaps, the baby. Eleanor woke crying every night at precisely one. The first night, Cade thought it was a fluke, that it was simply due to her being in an unfamiliar house and bed, but when it continued night after night, he realized it was a pattern—one that his wife was unable to break the child of. He didn’t have the heart to bring it up, but the longer it went on though, the more difficult the situation became. The baby’s crying woke the twins, who in turn jumped on him and decided it was the perfect time to talk. By the time he calmed them down and settled back into their own bed after the baby finally stopped crying, he lost nearly two hours of sleep each night. The last three nights had become the worst. The twins refused to go back to sleep in their own bed, forcing Cade to let them sleep with him in his. They tossed and kicked him the rest of the night, turning the two hours of lack of sleep into nearly half the night.

  As the days stacked up, the effects of lack of sleep were starting to show. He was finishing his work slower, he was forgetting things, and his ranch hands were having to ask him questions twice. He knew he needed to do something about it, but he wasn’t sure what. The boys had never behaved like that as babies.

  “Is there anything else you need, boss, before I take my break to eat?” Jack Bralin asked as he put away the branding iron on the rack in the barn.

  “What, what was that?” Cade asked as he glanced over at the other man.

  Jack gave him a puzzled look as he repeated his query, “I asked if I could go eat with the other fellas?”

  “Sure, sure,” Cade mumbled dismissively. “See you back at one.”

  The dark-haired man sauntered off towards the back of the barn where the men tended to take their breaks.

  Cade ran his hands through his hair, frustrated that most days now, he seemed to be operating through a haze of fog. He heard the clinking of metal and a loud thud behind him. He spun around and noticed that one of the branding irons had fallen to the ground. He went over and bent down to pick it up. As soon as his hand touched the long bar, he yelped out in discomfort. He flinched back as searing pain surged through his hand. “How stupid, Cade,” he yelled at himself. “Jack just used that brander. You should’ve known it would be hot to the touch.”

  He flipped his hand over and saw a bright red line forming across the palm. The intensity of the ache was only getting harsher by the moment. He knew that this was a bad burn, and it was going to blister if he didn’t run some cool water over it right away. He rushed towards the back of the house, knowing the spigot there would be his best option.

  When the cool water cascaded over the hot burn, instant relief flooded through his body, causing him to let out a sigh of temporary alleviation. He plopped down next to the spigot, letting the water continue to flow over his burn.

  “What are you doing out here? What’s going on?” he heard Miranda ask from behind him.

  He looked over his shoulder at her, momentarily noting to himself, that even in her work clothes, she looked as pretty as ever. She had a dusting of white powder on her left cheek, he assumed from baking, and an apron tied around her brown skirt and yellow blouse.

  “It’s nothing; I burned my hand on one of the branding irons.”

  “You did what?” she cried out in concern, rushing up to him and falling on her knees beside him. “How did this happen? Weren’t you wearing gloves?”

  He could tell from the questioning in her tone, she was confused how he could let this happen.

  “It was stupid of me. I know better, but I was distracted,” he admitted.

  “By what?” she asked, moving closer to look at the wound through the water.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said with a shrug, not wanting to admit that it was a lack of sleep that was the culprit. If he did, he’d have to explain why he hadn’t been able to sleep lately. He didn’t want to cause her to feel guilt, especially over something she couldn’t control.

  “Of course it does,” she countered. “We need to figure out the reason to keep this from happening again.”

  Cade pressed his lips together, giving a side-glance to Miranda, debating whether or not he should tell her the truth. She must have noticed, because she reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “Out with it,” she demanded.

  He cleared his throat, shifting his position on the ground as he gathered up the courage to bring up what was wrong. “I haven’t been getting the best of sleep lately.”

  “Why is that?” she asked, the apprehension clear in her voice, almost as if she knew what he was about to say.

  “The boys have been waking up in the middle of the night and they won’t go back to sleep in their own bed.”

  She seemed to relax a bit, as she turned off the water and handed him a clean rag that she had in her hand. “Why don’t we go inside so I can put some balm on that burn and wrap it up for you.”

  Cade followed her inside and he sat down at the kitchen table. Miranda gathered up the items she would need to take care of his injury, then took a seat across from him. “You know, if the boys are having nightmares, I can have them come stay in my room for a bit. I can pray with them and read to them to get them to go back to sleep.”

  He averted his eyes and purposely avoided explaining the real reason. “That’s not why they’re waking up.”

  “Then, why are they?” she asked, pushing for clarification as she gently dabbed on the balm and spread it across the burn.

  “It’s because of the baby,” he finally admitted. “She’s waking them up, and in turn, they’re waking me
up.”

  “Oh, I see,” Miranda said, her hand pausing at her job for just a few seconds before she moved on to wrap his hand. “Elle’s always woken up at night. In the past, I was able to calm her down and get her to go back to sleep. Since arriving here, however, it’s been a different story. She just doesn’t want to calm down.”

  “Is it me or the boys? Is it the house?”

  Miranda shook her head. “No, not exactly. I think it’s the sleeping arrangement.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Miranda finished wrapping his hand and secured it with a firm knot. She looked up at him, frustration clearly written in her eyes. As hard as this was on him, it must be equally for her. She had to do all of her work, while taking care of the children, on the same lack of sleep.

  “Elle isn’t used to sleeping in a bed, and frankly, I’m not used to her sleeping next to me in one, either. Back home, she had her own crib. Since being here, we both keep bumping into each other. I’m constantly worried I’m going to roll onto her, or she’s going to fall off the bed. I’ve tried everything from arranging pillows around us to in between us. Nothing works.”

  “I wish I still had the boys’ crib, but right before Carol passed away, she insisted they were big enough for beds. We gave the crib to a neighbor who needed it.”

  “I understand. Maybe I should just take Elle outside and walk with her when she wakes up. At least the noise wouldn’t bother you and the boys.”

  Cade reached out and placed his uninjured hand on top of hers. “That wouldn’t be fair to you; you need to be able to sleep, too. We’ll figure something else out, I promise.”

  Over the next couple of days, Cade took it upon himself to build a crib for Eleanor. It took a little longer than he would have liked with his hand injured, but by the time he was finished, he was rather proud of how good it turned out. He tasked Jack and Herbert, one of the other ranch hands, into setting it up in the bedroom while he helped Miranda with feeding the animals.

  “That was a nice surprise having your help today,” Miranda complimented as they washed their hands at the water spigot before heading into the house. “I could get used to it,” she teased with a wink.

  “I have another surprise for you.” He reached out and took her hand, pulling her towards the bedroom.

  “Cade, I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” she said with apprehension in her voice. “I mean, I feel much more comfortable with you, but that’s a big step. I wouldn’t want to rush…”

  “No, it’s nothing like that,” Cade interrupted with a shake of his head, realizing she was afraid he wanted to get physical with her. “You’re going to like this surprise.”

  He pushed the door open to reveal the crib sitting in the room next to the bed.

  Miranda rushed forward and clutched the oak rail of the frame. “Where on earth did you get this?”

  Cade beamed with pride as he came to stand next to her. “I made it.”

  “You did? And with your hand hurt,” she exclaimed. “You really can do anything, Cade, can’t you?”

  He shrugged. “It was important to me. I want you and Eleanor to be happy here. I want this to be your home now.”

  He could see from the happiness in her eyes that his words touched her. She turned towards him and threw her arms around him. “All of this means so much. Thank you,” she whispered against his cheek, her breath tickling his skin, causing goosebumps to surface.

  “You’re welcome,” he said back, wrapping his own arms around her. She fit perfectly against him, like she was always meant to be there. They were so close, the temptation to pull back slightly and place a kiss upon her lips played across his mind. As soon as it did though, guilt followed close behind. He stepped back, embarrassed that he let himself get caught up in the moment. What would Carol think of his reaction? It was completely disloyal of him to think about another woman that way, even if she happened to be his wife. “I have a few more things to do before supper. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

  Cade hated the confusion he saw written across her face. He knew she deserved an explanation at his hasty departure, but he didn’t have it in him to give it to her. Instead, he turned away and fled the house.

  7

  Two weeks had passed since the day Cade surprised her with the crib. Miranda enjoyed her time with the children and the boys were beginning to settle down. The rewards she established for them seemed to be working wonders. There hadn’t been any outbursts or tantrums in almost a week.

  “That’s perfect, Ezra, you did a wonderful job of coloring in your half of the banner,” she praised.

  “How ‘bout me?” Isaiah asked, pointing to his own half of the ‘happy birthday’ banner.

  “Yes, Isaiah, you did a wonderful job as well. You both are very talented artists. I might have to have you do all the painting projects around here from now on.”

  The boys jumped up from the parlor floor, cheering and yelling, “Yippee,” as they danced around the room. “We paint the house.”

  “Whoa now, I never said that,” Miranda chastised gently. “Let’s start out on smaller projects first. In the meantime, we need to continue getting ready for the party.”

  “It’s our birthday,” Ezra and Isaiah chanted over and over as they finished up the rest of the preparations.

  Miranda had gotten to know several of the women in town when she went in for supplies and after church service on Sundays. She’d invited them, along with their families, to join them at the ranch to celebrate the twins turning three. When she told Cade, he was surprised by it, but he accepted it without complaint.

  She checked the clock and figured she had at least another half hour before the baby woke up, giving her just the right amount of time to finish her final project. “I need to go ice the cake now that it’s cool,” Miranda explained to the twins. “Why don’t the two of you go in your room and play until it’s time to get dressed for the party.”

  The boys complied, running out of the parlor, with Miranda following after them but heading in the direction of the kitchen. She picked up the cake and bowl of icing from the counter and moved over to the kitchen table. With exacting precision, she spread the buttercream frosting over the top and around the edge of the cake. She added a bit of berry juice to the remaining frosting to color it, then used it to write ‘Happy Birthday Ezra and Isaiah’ across the top. She pulled out three small candles and placed them above the birthday message. “I think that will do it,” she stated with a content nod.

  “I’d say it more than does it. That might be the best-looking cake I’ve ever seen,” Cade praised as he came into the kitchen through the back door.

  Her eyes darted up and met his, an appreciative smile spread across her face. “Thank you, this is the first time I’ve ever made one on my own. I just hope it tastes good.”

  “I’m sure it will. You’re baking and cooking has gotten significantly better over the past couple of weeks. This cake might be the best work you’ve done so far. The boys are going to love it.” He glanced around the room, then followed up by asking, “Where are they by the way? I hope they aren’t getting into trouble.”

  “No, they were actually quite a bit of help. They did a terrific job on the sign. I told them they could go into their room to play until it’s time to get ready. I figured I could finish up the rest of my preparations for the party faster that way.”

  “What do you need help with?”

  “The boys just finished the banner. I could use some help hanging it,” she suggested.

  “No problem,” he said with a faint smile. “Lead the way.”

  Once inside the parlor, they picked up the banner from the floor. They each took an end of the string that held the paper letters. They stretched it across the bookcase and anchored it under a couple of heavy books.

  Miranda stepped back to look at the banner. It was obviously crooked on one side because Cade was a full head taller than her and picked the shelf above hers. “I need to
adjust my side.” She walked forward and removed her string from under the books. She pushed up on her tippy-toes to place the string on the next shelf, but she just couldn’t reach it.

  “Here, let me help you,” he said, coming up behind her.

  His body brushed against hers, the firmness of his muscles rippling against her as he reached up and took the string from her. As his hand touched hers in the process, a shot of heat scurried up her arm from the spot where their skin touched, causing a stirring inside her. Miranda tilted her head back until her eyes locked with his above her. Cade must have felt it, too, because he was looking at her in a way that made it clear he wanted to kiss her. She slowly turned around, his body adjusting against hers, much snugger then before. Her hand moved towards his chest, resting just over his heart. She could feel the relentless pounding of it underneath his white, cotton shirt.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he whispered back, his mouth drifting down towards hers. “I’m always obliged to help if it means I get a few minutes alone with you.”

  Just before their lips touched, Eleanor’s shrieking cry pierced the air, jerking them both back to where they were.

  “I have to go get Elle ready for the party,” she gasped out. “Do you mind helping the boys? Their clothes are laid out on their bed.”

  Miranda didn’t wait for a response. She bolted out of the parlor like she was on fire. That was two times in the past couple of days she nearly kissed Cade. She wasn’t sure how it was happening, but their friendship was turning into something more. If she didn’t watch out, she was going to fall head-over-heels in love with her husband.