No Buttons Or Beaux

by Cathy Marie Hake

  The way the Chances acted so guarded made Matt’s suspicions rise. Added to that, the fact that a MacPherson happened to be here made the association between his two prime suspects all that more important. Matt refused to allow a brief prayer to fool him. The Chance men all had deep brown hair and blue eyes, but their features were dissimilar enough for Matt to tell them apart. He’d always been good with names—a skill that stood him in good stead since he’d met all eight of them in a matter of minutes.

  Packard swiped the saltshaker from Tanner. “That foal looking any better?”

  “Yup.” Tanner shoveled in a huge bite and spoke around the food, “He’s feelin’ good enough to be ornery.”

  “Ohhh, man. Buttered sweet peas.” The words escaped Matt’s mouth. Feeling a little sheepish, he tacked on, “I haven’t had these since I left home.”

  “Kate made them,” April said. “They’re a new recipe.”

  “Not bad, sis,” one of the men said.

  Kate beamed. The woman’s whole face lit up when she smiled. She said, “April and I have crazy cake in the oven for dessert.”

  “I volunteer to go pull it outta the oven,” Peter said.

  Bellows of laughter met that comment. When they died down a little, Caleb said, “That’s like having the fox mind the chicken coop.”

  “Cain’t blame a feller for tryin’. Only thang better’n April’s crazy cake is her sticky buns.”

  April blushed. “As soon as my hands are better, I’ll bake a batch of them especially for you.”

  Every man around the table suddenly froze. Forks hung midair. Conversation halted mid-sentence. Matt pretended not to be entertained by the variety of expressions—some eyes widened in surprise, while others narrowed with anger.

  Seven

  “I thank yore brothers and cousins are het up o’er me claiming a batch all to myself.”

  “And who’d blame them?” Kate laughed. “You know Chances always share.”

  “Kate,” Caleb gritted, “you stay outta this. Peter”—he jerked his thumb over his shoulder—“behind the stable.”

  “What’s gotten into you, Caleb?” April looked down the table at her brother.

  “Yore big brother thanks yore too young to court.” Peter’s voice held an entertained lilt.

  “He started courting Greta when he was younger than I am.”

  Caleb stood. The muscles in his jaw twitched. “Behind the stable. Now.”

  Peter rose. “Kate, would you please make shore the cake don’t burn? ’Twould be a dreadful pity iff’n this little mis-understandin’ ruint dessert.”

  “Don’t bother, Kate,” Caleb said. “Peter won’t be staying for dessert.”

  “Caleb, you sit right back down.” Kate scooted off the end of the bench. “You’re the eldest here, and April’s your little sister. But you need to cool off.”

  “Kate—” Caleb snapped out her name.

  “Hold it right there.” Matt stood. “Whatever’s wrong here can still be reckoned out peacefully, but nobody’s going to talk to a woman in that tone of voice when I’m around.”

  “Mister, sit down, shut your mouth, and finish your meal.” Caleb never turned his glower off Peter as he added, “You’ll be leaving as soon as you’re done.”

  “That does it, Caleb.” Kate threw her napkin on the table. “We’ve all put up with you being cranky since Greta’s at her sister’s, but you’re downright impossible anymore.”

  “She’s right,” one of the men muttered.

  “I’m getting the cake out of the oven. When I come back out here, every last one of you had better be sitting here with a smile on his face, or I’m going to do the laundry all by myself again.”

  Kate left. Peter stared at Caleb. “Ain’t gonna be no skin offa my nose if Kate don’t rinse the lye outta the skivvies. None of my clothes hang on your clothesline.”

  “And they never will.” Caleb’s voice rivaled a thunderclap. “I’ll put up with itchy clothes before I let you court my sister.”

  “I s’pose you cain object all you want, but it’d be mighty nice iff’n you had a decent reason.”

  “You’re cousins!” one of the men shouted.

  Peter shook his head. “Two thangs. First off, I’m not deaf. Second, and more importantly, April ain’t my cousin.”

  “Of course, she’s your cousin.”

  “Nope. Polly is a cousin to Tempy’s children.” Peter grinned as he drawled, “The rest of us ain’t related at all.”

  April laughed. “When we said the Chances share, I guess we took it too far. We claimed aunts and uncles and cousins who actually aren’t ours at all.”

  “Iff’n you still wanna meet me out back ’hind the stable, I’ll be happy to oblige.” Peter’s brows rose. “Haven’t e’er had a set-to so’s I could whup you, Caleb, but April’s more than worth a coupla skinned knuckles.”

  “He’s right,” one of the men marveled.

  “Right about me whuppin’ Caleb, or that April’s the finest woman ’round these here parts?”

  “We’re not cousins,” Caleb said slowly. He stepped over the bench, took three quick strides, and smacked Peter on the back. “Hoo-ooo-ey!”

  Peter returned the hefty slap. “I could still take you on, level you out, and eat the whole cake afore you came to.”

  While the Chance men all palavered, Matt left the table and headed for his horse. He’d blown his opportunity to hire on here and keep watch on his prime suspects—but he’d find a way to continue surveillance. I couldn’t live with myself if I let a man treat a woman that way.

  “Hey!” A young man hustled over. “You’re not going.”

  “Looks that way.”

  “You’ll have to forgive Caleb. Between his wife being gone and him feeling protective of his sister, he overreacted. Me? I appreciated you sticking up for my sis. If I hadn’t been so shocked about Peter and April, I would have pounded Caleb into the ground for snapping at Kate myself.”

  “Tobias!” Kate yelled from the porch of the kitchen cabin. “You can’t send Mr. Salter away until we vote.”

  “Think hard before you speak,” April called to Tobias. “Two crazy cakes hang in the balance.”

  Tobias rested his hands on his hips. “Caleb, Greta’s not here. There’s no telling what her opinion on this would be, so that leaves us down to three votes. April and I—we vote this man’s staying on as a hired hand. Say what you will, but you’re outvoted.”

  Caleb’s chin rose a notch. “He’s opinionated.”

  “Show me a man around here who isn’t.” Kate stayed on the porch and wiped her hands on the hem of her apron.

  “He stuck his nose in where it didn’t belong.”

  “Only to protect my sister.” Tobias glared. “I would have called you out a heartbeat later if he hadn’t spoken up. There’s no excuse for being rude to a lady.”

  Caleb cleared his throat. “Kate, you have my apology. Peter, you do, too—though I think you were underhanded to sneak up on my sister without asking permission to court her. As for Salter, Tobias, you’re wrong. I’m not outvoted. The vote is unanimous: he stays for now.”

  “Well, what do you think of that?” Kate called.

  Tobias slugged Matt in the arm. “Guess it’s time we ate dessert. It’s crazy cake!”

  Matt shook his head. “The cake’s not the only thing crazy around here.”

  ❧

  April closed her eyes and felt Peter gently glide a comb through her just-washed tresses. “Johnna was nice to come help again today.”

  “Sis reckoned Kate might need holp wringin’ out the bedding. Ain’t easy to do on yore lonesome.”

  Opening her eyes, April looked over at Kate and Johnna as they hung another sheet on the clothesline. “I feel so silly. I’m sure I could help out—”

  “Hold it right there. Doc said you’ve gotta keep yore hands clean and dry for a week.”

  A buggy pulled into the yard, swirling dust all over the place and covering
the freshly washed and hung laundry with a coat of grime. “Hello!” Merry laughter filled the air. “I can see I don’t need to ask if anyone’s home.”

  “Hi, Lucinda.” April forced a smile. She ought to be hospitable, but it wasn’t easy. Lucinda’s thoughtlessness just made a lot more work for Kate and Johnna. Then, too, at the moment April knew full well she looked like a drowned rat. Lucinda’s peach-colored silk dress spread about her on the buggy seat, giving her the appearance of a much-cherished china doll.

  Lucinda daintily lifted a gloved hand to her mouth and gave April a wide-eyed look. “Why, I just cannot fathom what your mama would say if she saw you out here with your hair down, April.”

  “Her mama would stand here and comb it for her,” Peter said as he continued to tease out a stubborn tangle. “Sun dries it right quick.”

  “My hands are burned,” April explained.

  “You poor thing. I’ve never suffered so.” Lucinda’s dimples deepened as she smiled. “Daddy insists Mama and I. . .” She drew in a dramatic breath. “He says a lady—well, never you mind.” She surveyed the yard. “Isn’t Tobias here?”

  Kate dried her hands on her apron. “My brother is out working.”

  “Will he be back for luncheon?”

  “Doubt it.” Peter drew the comb through April’s hair again. “Kate sent the boys out with sandwiches.”

  “Come on down from yore buggy,” Johnna invited. “Plenty wants doin’.”

  “Like rinsing, wringing out, and rehanging the sheets,” Kate tacked on.

  “That’s a fact.” Johnna rubbed her cheekbone with the back of her wrist. “Another pair of hands would holp.”

  As if he sensed April’s impulse to rise, Peter’s hand curled around her shoulder. Carefully leashed strength held her in place.

  Lucinda cast a look toward the clothesline and shrugged as if it were of no concern. “I can’t stay. I just can’t.”

  “Then why,” Johnna asked, “did you ask if Tobias’d be home for lunch?”

  Lucinda ignored the question and held a slip of paper aloft. “I only stopped by on my way home because a telegram came for you.”

  “Thanks for bringing it by.” Kate reached for the message.

  “Anything to help a neighbor.” Lucinda handed over the telegram. “Oh, and please tell Tobias I’ll be expecting him for Sunday supper.”

  “We’ve already arranged a picnic with the MacPhersons,” Kate said.

  “You all go right on ahead. There are so many of you, I’m sure Tobias won’t be missed.” Lucinda gave them a jaunty wave. “Bye-bye.”

  “Who’s the telegraph from?” Johnna looked over Kate’s shoulder.

  “Uncle Gideon.”

  “Daddy!” April popped up. Peter’s arm went about her waist.

  “He says Yosemite’s beautiful. The boys are having a great time. They’re traveling slower than planned, and we can expect them to get back home late next week.”

  “Do you think Aunt Lovejoy’s having trouble? Her back—”

  “Don’t go borrowin’ worries,” Peter said. “Lovejoy has trouble with her back, but with all the beautiful views, she’s probably too busy gawkin’ to pay much mind to those twinges.”

  Kate beamed. “We have a whole week to get extra things done. It’s a good thing we hired Mr. Salter.”

  Johnna elbowed her. “Best we get back to work. No use in gettin’ moon-eyed o’er a saddle tramp. Most don’t stay more’n a month or so.”

  Watching the girls go back toward the laundry, April let out a sigh.

  “Don’t you fret yoreself none ’bout not holping with the wash.”

  “I’m not,” she said glumly.

  He drew the comb through her hair once again. “Lucinda has an air about her. ’Tisn’t you, April. She prob’ly don’t even know she comes ’cross as bein’ biggety. Don’t let her bother you.”

  “She doesn’t. Her parents dote on her so much, I figure she expects everyone else is supposed to treat her with the same indulgence.”

  “See? You went and done it again. Plenty of folks would get gossipy and make catty comments. You practically bend o’er backwards to be nice.” He set aside the comb and slid his fingers through her hair a time or two before dividing it into three segments.

  “You know how to braid?” April turned her head a little to the side to look up at him.

  “Nope. But I seen my sisters and cousins and ma plait hair day in and day out. Cain’t be all that hard.”

  Minutes later, April tried not to laugh. Peter had twisted, knotted, and undone a variety of crazy attempts. “Peter, take the left section and put it over the middle one. Then take the right section and put it over the middle. Left, right, left, right. . .”

  “So the middle ends up havin’ a turn at bein’ a side. Ain’t that the beatenist?”

  From the rhythmic way her hair swished, April could tell he’d achieved the technique. She started to relax a little.

  “So iff’n the wash and Lucinda aren’t nettlin’ you, what is it?”

  April tensed. She’d hoped they’d left that sore subject alone. “I think you have the plait long enough. Here’s a ribbon to tie at the bottom.”

  He tied the thin lavender grosgrain ribbon near the end of her waist-length plait, then tickled her cheek with the edge of her braid. “You cain tell me, little April. I’m yore friend, and I wanna share yore woes as well as yore joys.”

  “I’m drowning in self-pity,” April confessed sheepishly. “Lucinda and Tobias are courting. Johnna has Trevor. Last night, that new hand took up Kate’s defense. This morning at breakfast, I caught them trading glances. I’m older than Kate, and I truly hoped maybe this summer when Daddy and all of my uncles were gone, one of the local boys would get up some nerve and come calling.”

  “I cain’t say that yore wrong on most of what you said. Then again, any man who’s ascairt of yore pa and uncles ain’t man enough to come courtin’. Besides, is there anybody ’round these parts who you’d like to marry up with?”

  “No,” she admitted. After sucking in a quick breath, April added, “But it wouldn’t hurt to at least have one man want to take a stroll with me.”

  “I’m that one.” Peter stepped over the bench and straddled it. “You and me—we’ve been havin’ ourselves a nice time, haven’t we?”

  She nodded.

  “Far as I cain see, things is goin’ jist as we planned. Betcha most of the folks at church will already have our names linked after last night. ’Stead of you a-sittin’ in the Chance pew, yore gonna come sit by my side.” He nodded. “Yup. That’s where you b’long.”

  April smiled up at him. “You’re such a dear friend, Peter. Truly, you are. I wasn’t kidding last night when I promised you a batch of sticky buns. Once my burns have healed, it’s the first thing I’ll make.”

  He grinned. “A man couldn’t ask much more than that.”

  “Hey, you two lovebirds!” Johnna walked up. “I do declare, I called you both twice. Yore so set on one another, you didn’t hear a word I said!”

  “So whaddya want, sis?” Peter didn’t jump up or sound in the least flustered at being called lovebirds.

  “Didn’t seem right, Lucinda expectin’ Tobias to turn his back on family plans. She trotted off ere we could say so. Kate and me—we reckon what’s easiest is to send word back to the Youngbloods and tell ’em to meet us for Sunday picnic like we already had planned. Lucinda niver has managed to come to one.”

  “It seems passing strange she hasn’t, what with us doin’ our clan picnic so often.” Peter tucked a small strand of April’s hair behind her ear. “Don’t you agree, honey pie?”

  April nodded. She couldn’t quite summon her voice. When she shoved her hair back or one of the Chance women helped with her hair, it didn’t feel this way. Peter had taken to tucking in her hairpins, spiraling wayward tresses around his big, rough fingers, and giving her the shivers.

  “Tell ya what. Me and April—we’ll jaunt right on o’
er to the Youngbloods and give ’em the invite. The mister and the missus, too.”

  “I reckoned you’d volunteer for that.” Johnna laughed and shook her forefinger at them. “But you know the rules, Peter.”

  He gave his sister an affronted look. “Course I do.”

  “What rules?” April rose as Peter gently cupped her elbow.

  He cleared his throat and turned a tad ruddy.

  “Us MacPhersons got rules ’bout courtin’,” Johnna said. “Hand-holdin’s where it ends. No kisses ’til the buck asks for the gal’s hand in marriage.”

  Heat rushed clear up to her hairline. April rasped, “We haven’t kissed.”

  Peter looked her straight in the eyes and murmured, “Not yet.”

  “Soon, I’d warrant, from the way the both of you are actin’.” Johnna sashayed off.

  April couldn’t look away from Peter and whispered, “I feel like a liar.”

  “You got no reason to. None atall. There ain’t nothin’ a-wrong with you and me passin’ time together. What other folks make of it. . .” He shrugged and stepped over the bench. “I reckon I oughtta take it as a compliment that they suspect yore acceptin’ my suit.”

  As he said those last words, he cupped April’s waist and lifted her to the other side. “Peter!” she squealed.

  Kate and Johnna’s laughter filled the air.

  Peter’s smile broadened. “Unh-huh. I’m downright proud to squire you.”

  Eight

  “There’s an elaborate rig.” Matt straightened up and squinted toward the north.

  “Yeah,” Tanner scoffed. “Belongs to the Youngbloods. Looks like Lucinda took a mind to come pester Tobias.”

  “You could tell who was in the buggy?”

  “Wasn’t a matter of seeing. It’s a matter of knowing. The Youngbloods are the only ones around these parts with such a fancy rig. Her pa favors his Tennessee Walker, and her ma sends servants to town.”

  “Mrs. Youngblood doesn’t pay calls along with her daughter?”

  Tanner shook his head. “On occasion, she invites someone over for tea. That’s about it. Lucinda goes to town whenever she gets a notion to. That, and coming here to see Tobias. Otherwise, she doesn’t gad about.”