No Buttons Or Beaux

by Cathy Marie Hake

  “That’s quite a testimonial.” Tobias grinned. “So are you coming to church with us tomorrow?”

  Kate laughed. “Tanner invited him, then I invited him. Now you did.”

  “And they also invited me to go to the picnic.”

  Looking at his sister, Tobias asked, “Did you tell him about the MacPhersons’ dishes?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Don’t.” An impish smile tugged at the corners of Tobias’s mouth.

  “I overheard Johnna saying something to Peter about cat-head biscuits. If that’s the kind of food they bring, I’m going to make a pig of myself.”

  “You did that at supper tonight.” Tobias’s grin bloomed.

  “It’s Kate’s fault. She cooks better food than I’ve ever eaten.”

  “I’ve told him to wait until April is back at the stove.”

  “You’ve been whippin’ up some decent meals on your own, sis. What’re you making for the picnic?”

  “I’ve already made Aunt Miriam’s coleslaw. It’s hanging in the well along with egg salad, and I boiled potatoes for potato salad. While I make that tonight, I’ll bake some shoofly pie. I have some lemons that need to be used up. Maybe I’ll do a lemon meringue, too.”

  “Now you’ve done it.” Matt gave her a baleful look.

  “What did I do?”

  “Lemon pie. I’ll lie in bed thinking about it, and come morning, when there’s not a trace left of that lemon pie, I’ll be fired. Instead of going to church, I’ll be heading down the road, searching for a new job.”

  Kate’s eyes sparkled with merriment. “You could still go to church. It’s the perfect place for sinners to repent.”

  “Now there’s the problem. I couldn’t say I was one bit sorry for what I’d done.”

  “Better make a couple lemon meringues.” Tobias stretched. “I might have to supervise our new hand if he takes to wandering around at night.”

  “If you eat that much, when folks talk about the Chance spread, no one will know whether they’re discussing you or the ranch.”

  “I have a long way to go before I look like Mr. Roland.”

  Matt jumped on the opportunity. “Roland. Now there’s a neighbor you haven’t mentioned yet. So what does he do?”

  “Eat,” Tobias said succinctly.

  “He’s turned his cattle operation over to his son and his son-in-law.” Kate opened and shut the basket lid a few times to assure herself everything lined up easily. “Gout’s made it hard for him to get around much. I can understand why he’s thickened in the middle a bit.”

  “Must be a huge holding if he’s got two men running it.”

  “Just average-sized, but Sam and Hector are doing something right because it appears they’re turning a tidy profit.”

  So they might have found another way to make money—and moonshining is lucrative.

  “Speaking of the picnic. . .” Kate methodically put away the few tools she’d used. “I was so busy with supper, I forgot to tell you that April and Peter invited the Youngbloods to come.”

  “Great!” Tobias deftly started creating the center notch in his clothespin. “Guess that means we’ll have to leave that lemon pie alone tonight, Salter. Lucinda’s real fond of them.”

  “You men can stay here and whittle to your hearts’ content. I need to get back to the kitchen.”

  Matt regretted that Kate had to leave—even more than he regretted her big brother barging in and playing chaperon. I’ll manage to spend time with her tomorrow at the picnic. Meantime, maybe I can get Tobias to tell me more about the folks around here.

  “Tanner said just about everyone attends church. That’s good to hear. Most towns have a couple of skeptics or black sheep. . . .”

  ❧

  “No. No thank you.” Lucinda looked up at Tobias and batted her eyes. “You’re a big man. You eat it for me.”

  Peter tossed a pickle onto his plate. Lucinda made a big to-do over what she’d eat. For coming here without a single dish to share, it seemed mighty wrong for her to be so finicky. Then again, her mother had taken one look at the womenfolk putting out the huge spread of food and suddenly declared she felt poorly. Mr. Youngblood took her on home.

  Peter plopped down close to April. “Here. Have a bite.” He held the sandwich up for her. He’d used the excuse of her sore hands to make them eat off the same plate.

  “Oh! It’s your mama’s chicken salad!”

  Mama beamed. “I made it special, jist for you, lamb.”

  April took a bite, closed her eyes as she relished the flavor, and swallowed. “Magnificent! Thank you for making it.”

  “Thangs keep a-headin’ where they are betwixt you and my son, I’ll wind up sharin’ my secret recipe with you right soon.”

  Turning the same shade as the inside of a ripe watermelon, April swiped a pickle off the plate and took a big bite. Her face twisted in dismay.

  Lord, ever’body else knows we’re a good match. Why’s April actin’ like this?

  She dropped the rest of the pickle back onto the plate and shook her hand in the air. A small sound of distress curled in her throat.

  “Peter, pour yore water o’er her fingers. That salty brine’s hurting her dreadful.”

  He emptied his cup over April’s hand, then accepted Matt Salter’s. After pouring it slowly over the blisters that had opened, Peter yanked a bandana from his pocket and gently dried her fingers. “That any better, honey pie?”

  A choppy sigh accompanied a tiny bob of her head.

  “Best you go on a-feedin’ her,” Pa declared.

  Johnna chimed in, “Yep. Hit’ll be good practice for when you give her a bite from yore weddin’ cake.”

  Still red as could be, April called back over to his sister, “Don’t go rushing things. You and Trevor have been courting well over a year. If anyone’s due to marry, it’s you!”

  “He’s fixin’ to ask her,” one of his little cousins shouted.

  “Hush,” Mama chided.

  “But I’m only tellin’ the truth. I heard Trevor talkin’ to Uncle Obie. He asked—”

  Aunt Eunice clapped her hand over her son’s mouth. “You done said more’n ’nuff.”

  Trevor chortled. Fishing something out of his shirt pocket, he shifted onto his knees. “Johnna, I planned to take you off on a walk all alone, but since I’m getting so much help, I’ll ask you here and now.” He pulled out a ring. “I love you. Will you marry me?”

  While they kissed, everyone cheered.

  Matt Salter frowned. “Shouldn’t she give him her answer?”

  “Already did,” Peter declared. “MacPhersons don’t kiss unless they’re bespoken.”

  “Hey, Peter!” Trevor called over. He shot a meaningful look at April. “Jump on in. The water’s fine!”

  Caleb shouted back, “Not a chance!”

  Paxton let out a whoop. “That’s right. April won’t be a Chance anymore.”

  Peter looked at April. A fetching blush stained her cheeks, and she bit her lower lip—something she rarely did. Nothing would make me happier than to propose here and now, but she’s not ready yet. She deserves a full courtship and to know how deep my love flows ere I ask her. Peter lifted his chin and gave her a slow, audacious wink.

  Caleb cleared his throat loudly. “Nobody’s doing any proposing to anyone until our folks get home.”

  “That’s only proper,” Kate agreed. She smiled and tacked on, “Our folks are due home late this week.”

  “That gladdens my heart,” Aunt Tempy said. “I’ve missed my sister more than words can tell.”

  “I’m sure Aunt Lovejoy’s missed you every bit as much.” April sighed. “I’ve worried about her.”

  “Frettin’ ne’er yields good.” Ma caught little Matilda as she toddled by and started to tie her shoe. “We’ll all hold our Lovejoy up to Jesus.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Lois.” April gave Peter’s mother a tender smile. “I’ve been thinking about you all going to Yosemite the next f
ew summers. While you’re praying, I want you to ask the Lord about leaving Matilda in my care. Aunt Eunice, I’d keep Elvera for you, too. That way, you’d all be able to enjoy yourselves more.”

  “Ain’t that kind of you!” Aunt Eunice said as she poked a tomato wedge into Elvera’s mouth.

  Ma gave Matilda a hug, and Matilda gave her a sloppy baby kiss before pushing away and coming straight to Peter. She curled her chubby little fingers around the other part of the pickle. “Pees?”

  April pulled his tiny sister down into her lap. “Yes, but you have to sit down here to eat. No running around with food in yore mouth.”

  “I can watch the young’uns,” Johnna said. “I already went to Yosemite.”

  “Nope.” Trevor nestled her close. “I aim to go see Yosemite. I want my bride by my side.”

  A deep longing speared through Peter. I want the woman by my side to be my bride.

  “Kate?” April tugged on her cousin’s sash. “Don’t you think Johnna ought to come to our cabin to make her wedding gown?”

  Kate bobbed her head. “We have plenty of room, and it can be left out instead of being tucked away when you can’t work on it.”

  Ma sighed. “I always reckoned my daughters would wear my weddin’ dress. But yore a whole hand taller. I checked the hem last night, and it’s not deep ’nuff to let down for you, Johnna.”

  “Lambkins, could be one of the others’ll still wear it.” Pa patted Ma’s shoulder. “I’ll send Peter to San Francisco to fetch a dress length of fine satin. That way, that gal of ourn cain stitch a purdy dress she cain pass on to her own daughter someday.”

  Matilda twisted and held up the end of the pickle she’d been gnawing on for April to have a bite. April pretended to nibble on it. “Mmm-mmm! Thank you!” She turned to Peter. “Laurel and Gabe are in Boston, visiting his family.”

  Lucinda fluffed up row upon row of ruffles in her skirts. “Mama has all of my clothes made back East.”

  “No daughter of mine’s gonna walk down the aisle in a ready-made gown.” Ma shook her head. “I won’t have it.”

  Lucinda spluttered. “My dresses are not ready made!”

  “Yore right purdy in that frock, Lucy.” Ma reached for her mug of water.

  Peter was glad she did, because she missed seeing Lucinda’s scowl. He didn’t know whether Tobias’s sweetheart didn’t accept the heartfelt compliment or if she objected to Ma’s habit of granting folks nicknames. Either way, the gal oughtn’t be so disrespectful to her elders.

  Ma kept on talking. “Yes, you are a sight to behold. But ever’ stitch in a weddin’ gown ought to be made with hope and prayer, not by a machine. Machines don’t carry a thread of love.”

  “Making Polly and Laurel’s dresses was so much fun,” Kate said.

  “Plenty of love and joy filled the hours we spent.” April looked at Peter. “We could send a telegram and have Laurel ship material to San Francisco.”

  “Won’t that be expensive?” Lucinda stared at her plate and scooted the food around.

  Peter bristled. She’d best mind her tongue. Just ’cuz we MacPhersons ain’t wealthy don’t mean we don’t do right by our own.

  “It won’t be expensive at all.” April beamed. Bless her heart, it never occurred to her that someone might be unkind. “Laurel and Gabe took a list from us before they left. Laurel already told me she planned to send back fabric for the MacPherson clan. We didn’t ask what you’d like—”

  “Because you always wear golden yellow,” Kate said.

  Johnna burst out, “I don’t want a yeller weddin’ dress.”

  “But you’d look gorgeous carrying yellow flowers.” April lovingly rubbed her cheek against Matilda’s mop of russet curls.

  Peter’s heart swelled. April cherished his kin. Here she was, natural as breathing, lovin’ on his sisters. Everyone in both families knew for certain that he’d fallen head-over-heels in love with her—everyone but her. Someday soon, she’ll see the truth.

  “I’d never carry yellow roses.” Lucinda stuck her nose in the air. “They represent infidelity.”

  The friendly chatter came to a dead halt.

  Trevor curled his arm tightly around Johnna. “Johnna and me—our love is stronger than that sort of nonsense.”

  “Some of those customs have no meaning here,” Tobias told Lucinda.

  “That’s right.” Johnna smoothed her hand down her yellow gown. “I reckon I wouldn’t much feel like myself iff’n I didn’t have yeller somewheres on my weddin’ day.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you hold in your hand,” April said. “It’s what you hold in your heart. We all know how devoted you are to one another.”

  Matt Salter rose. “Anyone need anything?”

  “I couldn’t possibly eat another morsel.” Lucinda’s gaze shifted toward April. “Gluttony is a sin.”

  Eleven

  “Pride’s a sin,” Peter half-growled.

  “And sloth,” Kate chimed in.

  “That leaves greed, envy, wrath, and. . .” Tanner’s brows knit.

  “Lust,” Pa finished. “Mr. Salter, iff’n yore headin’ to the table, I’d appreciate you toting back some of that Heinz ketchup.”

  Matt nodded. “Sure will. I’m getting more of that noodle stuff if any’s left.”

  Tanner chortled. “You like it, huh?”

  “Delicious.”

  “Coupla rattlers got bold and slithered into the henhouse,” Pa said.

  Ma nodded. “Eunice skinned them snakes and boiled up a mess of noodles.”

  “So you’ve been eating rattler!” Tanner’s eyes danced with mirth.

  Lucinda shoved her plate to the side and started gagging. She scrambled off the blanket and raced toward a clump of trees.

  Salter shrugged. “Isn’t the first time I’ve had rattler. Hope it’s not the last. I’d rather eat snake than have one take a bite of me any day.”

  Kate started to get up. “I suppose I ought to go see if Lucinda needs any help.”

  “Thanks, sis.” Tobias handed her his bandana.

  “Bring over a cup of water in a few minutes.”

  “Here, honey pie.” Peter held the sandwich to April’s mouth. He couldn’t fathom why Lucinda acted so catty, but he wasn’t going to let April think for one second that he agreed.

  Tears glossed April’s eyes as she shook her head. “I’ve had enough.”

  “You’ve only had one bite.”

  “Bite!” Matilda opened her little mouth wide.

  “Shore.” Peter gave his baby sister a bite, then took one himself. He held the sandwich back up to April’s mouth. Talking around the food, he said, “See? It’s yore turn now.”

  Matilda twisted around and bobbed her head. “Turns. Share. Good!”

  April pasted on a smile and took the tiniest bite possible.

  Tobias stood and looked at everyone. “I’m sorry if feathers got ruffled. Lucinda was nervous.”

  Peter stared up at his friend. “There’s nervous, and then there’s wicked mean.”

  “Iff’n any of mine got that fresh-mouthed, they’d be tasting a cake of lye soap.” Aunt Eunice folded her arms across her chest. “A hickory switch iff’n they’d show half that much—”

  Pa cut in, “ ’Cept for Caleb, Tobias, yore the eldest Chance here. ’Tisn’t my place to tell you what to do, but I’m more’n riled. Mayhap you oughtta take Miz Youngblood home to her folks.”

  Tobias left.

  Pa turned to Peter. “Hit’ll take three days or so for the material to get there onc’t we send a telegram. Not to say that we don’t ’preciate all yore hard work, but with so many of the Chances gone and you bein’ there to holp with the horses and court April, we’ve managed to get along. I’m of a mind to send you to San Francisco with yore sis.”

  Johnna laughed delightedly. “Thank you, Pa! April, you could come with us!”

  “O’er my dead body.” Ma shook her head. “Wouldn’t be seemly, what with them courtin’. ’Sides, a
bsence makes the heart grow fonder.”

  “Don’t know about that,” Peter said. “I’m already right fond of this here beauty. If anything, I’m afeared some other buck’s gonna try to steal her away whilst I’m gone.”

  ❧

  “Have a safe trip.” April passed a box to Peter. The MacPhersons needed all of their wagons, and with some of the Chances still gone, Caleb offered to have Peter and Johnna borrow one for their trip to San Francisco.

  “Now you jist hang on a minute.” He set the box on the porch railing. “First thangs first. Honey pie, I’m startin’ to miss you, and I ain’t even left yet.”

  “Don’t you even want to know what’s in the box?”

  He tugged her into his arms. Dipping his head, his breath tickling her ear, Peter murmured, “You’re more interestin’ than anything in the whole wide world.”

  She shivered. Dear Mercy, Peter’s my friend. I can’t have feelings for him this way. April did her best to sound lighthearted. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew I got up early this morning to bake you the sticky buns I’ve been promising.”

  “Yore sweeter’n any old sticky buns. Still, thankee for makin’ them. I’ll relish ever’ last one.”

  “You’d better.” Caleb tugged her away from Peter, and April suddenly felt very lonely. Her brother groused, “It’s Wednesday. April always makes those sticky buns for us. Not today. She boxed them up and threatened if we so much as opened the lid, she’d never make them again.”

  “That’s right.” A spurt of joy filled her when Peter snatched up the box.

  Johnna giggled from the wagon bench. “You Chance boys are just outta luck. Chances might always share, but Peter’s a MacPherson.”

  Caleb poked Peter in the chest. “If you won’t share, I won’t either.”

  “You don’t have anything he wants,” April shot back.

  As Caleb’s arm wrapped around her, Peter shook his head. “Honey pie, that’s where yore wrong as wrong cain be. Yore brother has you.”

  “You don’t have to give me the whole box.” Caleb smiled audaciously. “You can keep one bun for yourself.”