by Angie Dicken
“My pleasure.” If he was forced to leave by winter, that might be a good thing. Would the warmth of his soddie ever keep him as content as when he found himself by Aubrey’s side?
They worked diligently with little words for the next few hours. Just as the sun began to slide down the western sky, they both dragged their feet to the shade near the horses.
“It’s been a long, productive afternoon,” he said.
“Yes, it has.” Aubrey frowned as she eyed her one-foot sod walls. “Wish I’d done more.”
His home was a little further along than Aubrey’s. He clenched his teeth. He’d work until midnight if she’d let him help her. But that would only bring them closer together and farther from his vow to avoid attachment. He swallowed hard, scolding himself for that reckless kiss.
Rummaging through his bag, he found the last of his provisions. He’d have to get more. The thought of going into town and risking being recognized spoiled his appetite. He returned his attention to Aubrey. “How’s Ben doing?”
“Fine. The new cast makes it easier to move around, but he still has some pain. He doesn’t care for the meds, though.” She rubbed her shoulder.
“I wish he didn’t hate me so much. I feel like I’m being glared at every time he’s around.”
“Oh, that’s the Huxley way.” Aubrey rolled her eyes. “Don’t expect him to shrug off the fact that you broke his leg anytime soon.”
“But—”
She placed her hand on his arm. “Don’t worry, Cort. I saw what happened.”
“You’d stick up for me?” He arched a playful eyebrow.
She stood up and giggled. “I’d stick up for the truth, yes.”
Cort began to stand up, too. “Well, I wish things were different with Ben.” He headed for the fire. “Guess I’ll get supper on.”
“Maybe I can convince Ben to eat with us? He could get to know you better?”
“That’s an optimistic idea.” He tipped his hat, resisting a wink. He barely had enough for one person, but now he’d feed three. The old cookie inside him couldn’t think of a better way to call a truce than with a meal, even if he was running out of supplies. “I’ll convince him that I’m not so bad. Some conversation in the open air might just clear things up.”
Aubrey hurried down the ridge.
He’d nearly finished cooking by the time they joined him. Ben just stared into the flame, hardly speaking a word. It didn’t take long for Cort and Aubrey to finish their share of the meager meal they’d prepared, but Ben just pushed the food around on his tin plate.
“Ben, I’ve said it before, but I am sorry about your leg. I didn’t want to fight you.”
Ben’s brow pulled lower over his eyes, but he didn’t look up. Aubrey poked her brother with her elbow. He just jerked away from her. Aubrey blew a piece of hair from her nose and slouched in defeat.
Crackling embers filled the quiet. Cort gathered up the plates and set them aside for washing.
“I don’t know where you learned to cook, Cort, but those biscuits were amazing,” Aubrey said.
“Thank you. I was taught by the best—an old cookie named Jerry Lankin.”
“Cookie?” Ben scoffed.
“The cook for a cattle drive. I’ve spent many nights around the fire after cooking a meal for hungry cowboys.”
“It seems you might have many more miles on your boots than Ben and me,” Aubrey sighed. “I’d never been out of Kansas until we crossed into the Cherokee Strip. And even then, it was only for a handful of days.”
“Looks like you are full of adventure now.” Cort gestured to the land around them. He winked at her.
Did she blush? He shouldn’t care, but his heart stuttered against his will.
Ben just sat there with his head hung low.
“Ben, did you know that Cort not only cooks but whittles, too? Maybe you’d like to learn.” She raised an eyebrow Cort’s way.
“It’s an old hobby of mine. Might do you good to get a hobby out here, Ben.” He pulled out his latest project. It was a half-formed castle.
Ben slid his attention away from his plate and over toward Cort’s hands. It was the first time he’d looked over his way.
“Whittling’s not hard. Just takes patience...and care that you don’t slip and nick a finger.” Cort spoke while he worked. The smell of mesquite and fire-baked biscuits was the perfect setting to whittle. Always after a meal. Same as when he was on the drive, and when he was on the ranch up north. The only difference was, instead of a circle of dirty, spent men, two sets of large brown eyes watched him intently.
“Want to try? I have some fresh wood,” he said to Ben, holding out his knife by the blade.
“Dunno.” Ben lifted his shoulders but seemed to consider the offer.
“Go on. It must be downright boring to heal with nothing to do.” Cort pushed the knife and wood into Ben’s hand and patted him on the shoulder.
He struggled to position himself without disturbing his leg. Remorse crept into Cort’s conscience. Even if Ben was relentless in the fight, he was only trying to help his sister. Would his own brother have fought so hard for him? Cort was the sibling always backing up Charles. Not the other way around.
“There you go, brother.” Aubrey encouraged him, then gave Cort a curt nod and mouthed, “Thank you.”
Cort settled back on his elbows and plucked a long piece of grass. He tucked it into his mouth and gazed at the glittering sky. No matter how grim the past and the future might be, God had blessed him with another star-filled night to ease his sorrowful thoughts.
“You just let me know if you have any questions, Ben. I am always here to help.” Cort laid down his worry. He just soaked in the evening and appreciated the company, kicking up his well-traveled boots, hoping he could stay put awhile.
* * *
It had been nearly a week since Aubrey’d spoken to the tailor about finding customers. And between caring for Ben, learning how to work the plow and building a soddie, her excitement about making a profitable living as a seamstress had dampened like the soggy bed of her meager creek. At least there was Cort. No matter if he didn’t agree with her priorities, he’d asked Mrs. Hicks on her behalf.
Gratitude filled her heart at the thought. Affection washed over her when the cowboy crossed her mind. She prayed for God to give her a steadfast spirit and a practical heart, especially when it came to her relationship with the ranch hand.
A laugh escaped her lips as she considered the word practical describing such an unreasonable thing as the heart. She might be a determined landowner, but she was human after all. Cort’s effect on her had proved that she was not above the fancies of a courted woman. It was becoming more and more difficult to ignore his attention.
The cowboy galloped off toward town while Aubrey kept her horse at a steady pace behind him. At least she had her mornings apart from his constant presence. How many mornings would it take to build up enough resistance to be completely unmoved when he was around?
Her thoughts dissolved with the sight of a near-completed soddie appearing in the distance. A couple of piles of sod bricks sat where the Jessups’ tipped-over wagon had once been. Mr. Jessup, two of his daughters and a couple of unfamiliar men were hard at work.
“Hello there.” She rode up beside them.
Mr. Jessup wiped his hands on his trousers and offered her a hand. “Good morning, Miss Huxley.” She dismounted and one of the girls led her horse to a post that served as a hitch. The two Jessup horses were attached to a fine plow. Better than the grasshopper plow she’d been using by hand.
Aubrey shaded her eyes, admiring the home. “My, you have worked long and hard. Your house looks perfect.”
Mr. Jessup laughed. “Perfect? Hardly. But we have at least one room walled in with a temporary roof. Sarah fe
els a whole lot better now with the baby’s arrival so close.”
“I can imagine. Is she around? I’d love to speak with her.”
He motioned for her to follow him around the corner of the home.
It seemed a family of six with one on the way knew the urgency of establishing a home in an efficient manner. Sarah appeared in the open doorway, holding a bowl of porridge against her large belly. Little Adelaide emerged just below Sarah’s elbow.
“Good morning, Aubrey,” Sarah greeted her while her husband returned to work.
“Good morning to both of you. And how is your dolly?” Aubrey knelt down, pushing her bonnet back. “I have something for her.” She reached into her basket and pulled out a miniature apron. She’d sewn it yesterday while keeping Ben company.
“Oh, thank you!” The little girl squealed and disappeared inside.
Before Sarah and Aubrey could exchange words, Adelaide reappeared, holding her doll out to Aubrey.
“Here you go.” Aubrey tied the tiny ribbon around the waist. “Perfect.”
“Thank you, Miss Huxley.” Adelaide and her mother spoke almost in unison.
“You’re very welcome.”
“Come inside, dear. We were just finishing breakfast,” Sarah offered breathlessly, stepping aside.
The partially built room was quite large. Its dirt floor was swept clean and four neat pallets lined the western wall. A feather mattress sat in the far northern corner. A few chests separated the sleeping area from a kitchen space already furnished with a small iron stove and a table and chairs.
“How nice it must’ve been to bring a cart full of possessions on the run,” Aubrey said.
Sarah sat at the stove, stirring a pot. “We are very blessed.” She smiled. “And I am so glad you came for a visit. Pull up a chair and I’ll pour you a fresh cup of coffee.”
“Thank you, Sarah.” The comfortable home assured her that beginning her own was a wise decision. “Your home is lovely.”
“Dave and the girls promised to finish before the baby came. They seem to be holding true to their word. The two Patterson boys have been a godsend, too.”
“You have a fine family.” Aubrey swallowed away any distress that came with speaking such a word. Family was hardly a comfort in her mind. Except for Mama. She was the only reason family seemed valuable. But the Jessups certainly gave new meaning to the arrangement. “I am certain your girls are also helpful with mending and sewing.” Her nerves prickled. She didn’t expect a mother with three capable daughters and a soon-to-be capable child to be in need of a seamstress. However, besides the Hickses, she had no other contact on the prairie. She must find a way to spread the word about her business plans.
“Jolene has already fashioned two gowns for the baby.” Sarah pushed away a golden strand then set a steaming cup of coffee before Aubrey. “You are quite the seamstress yourself, Aubrey. Adelaide is your most faithful customer.” A playful grin grew on her pretty round face. “Did you ever speak with the tailor?”
“Actually, that is what I came to talk with you about.” Sipping the coffee, Aubrey explained her venture. Her enthusiastic friend listened and squeezed her hand in encouragement. “Have you made any acquaintances around here?” Aubrey asked.
“We’ve made a few.” Sarah’s sapphire eyes rounded. “Oh, there’s that chuck wagon dinner tonight. Have you heard?” Sarah leaned from her chair and gave the pot a stir. Aubrey shook her head. She hadn’t seen a soul besides Cort and Ben in the past week or so.
Sarah carefully laid the spoon across the pot then sat back, resting her hands on her lap. “The neighbors to the north are hosting it. The Pattersons. We buy our milk and eggs from them. They’re trying to get acquainted with the folks around here and invited us a couple weeks ago. All are welcome. I am sure you’d find many women who would consider your business. Especially with all the work it takes to make a homestead. If it weren’t for my girls, we’d be in quite a mess trying to establish a home, feed mouths and ward off the heat. There’s hardly any time for mending, let alone making dresses for the winter.”
Aubrey couldn’t contain a smile. “That sounds like a fine idea.”
“Why don’t you walk with us? Mr. Stanton is welcome to join us, as well. Didn’t he say he was a cookie once?”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” She nibbled her lip. Cort was leery of going into town. Would he care to be around a whole gathering of strangers? “I am not sure about Mr. Stanton, but I’d love to join you.” She might as well make friendships that would last for the long term. And next to the home-making Jessups, Cort was only the good-looking visitor helping for a season.
By the time Aubrey returned home, the sun had grown relentless again. The cloudless sky offered nothing but bright blue kindling for flaming rays. She dreaded getting to work with the sod. How much lovelier it would be to sit in her cool dugout and work with silk and pretty buttons. She trekked down to the creek bed. Ben was up and asked for help to wash.
Afterward, she offered him some muffins and butter that Sarah had made. The butter was lovely and smooth. Aubrey hadn’t savored such richness in weeks, it seemed. Once she could make an income, she could afford the simple tools like a churn for a functioning kitchen. A wave of anxiety swept over her as she examined the crude mud walls and crooked quilt hanging as a door.
“Are you okay, sis?” Ben wiped the corners of his mouth.
“Just a little overwhelmed.”
Cort’s unwanted advice floated to her mind. Priorities can help you—or destroy you.
Ben grimaced. “If I hadn’t stole your horse, you’d be in a whole different situation, wouldn’t you?”
“There’s no use looking backward, Ben Huxley.” Aubrey swatted his good knee. “You just need to heal and I need to work. That’s all we can focus on right now.”
Ben sighed. “Wish I wasn’t such a burden.”
Studying his face, she felt the Jessups’ sense of family come to mind. She doubted that they’d consider any member a burden. Shame threatened to release the tears pulsing behind her eyes. Ben was a burden. She may have never said it, but when she searched herself, she knew her perspective to be true.
The Huxleys weren’t worthy of such a title as family. It seemed the living Huxleys were all in for themselves only. Was she included in such an assessment? Maybe before, but now she’d witnessed a different type of people out here on the prairie. God had surrounded her with all these giving people—the Jessups, the Hickses and, of course, Cort. Could she learn anything from their generosity?
“Stay as long as you need, brother.” She swallowed hard and scrambled to her feet. “I am going to go build a nice home. Maybe you will have the chance to enjoy it, too.”
“Do you think I could come up with you? Maybe sit in the shade and whittle some?” He scratched his knee, just above the hard plaster.
She couldn’t help but grin. Cort’s enthusiasm for his hobby was transferring to Ben. That cowboy was something else. He’d reached out and given Ben something to think about besides his broken leg. And he’d given Aubrey something to think about, too. It wasn’t necessarily the best use of Aubrey’s thinking time, but she had to wonder one thing: What in the world would life be like without Cort Stanton on the Cherokee Strip?
* * *
Cort cut through the tall grasses, rushing to help Aubrey with Ben. They were struggling to make their way up the ridge. Ben leaned into Aubrey as he apparently tried to keep his cast from bearing his weight. This heat was treacherous, and Cort could see its effect on Aubrey’s reddened cheeks and distressed frown.
“Here, take my hand,” Cort said. Ben managed to hop up the last few steps with Cort’s help, while Aubrey kept him steady on his other side.
“That was not what I expected.” She crumpled to the ground, swiping her face with her apron.
> “You need to get to some shade, Aubrey.” No matter how much he must keep a distance from this woman, his concern would not be contained. His last venture to town had shown him the results of this torrid heat. Many lay ill with heatstroke, and word was going around about the latest death from the relentless drought.
Aubrey took his hand, allowing him to lead her to the shade. He then assisted Ben and sat him next to his sister.
“You’d better drink, both of you,” he commanded.
“Cort Stanton, you are acting like an old mother hen. We are fine.” Aubrey unscrewed her canteen. “Ben just forgot his crutch up here, so I had to help.”
“Sunstroke is taking Alva like the plague. Heard about at least three people who almost died from it. One funeral is being planned for an unfortunate townsman.” He spoke quietly as he wet his own bandanna and placed it on Aubrey’s neck. She looked down at his hand from the corner of her eye, then up at him. He brushed her cheek as he pulled it away.
“Well, thank you for caring about us, Mr. Stanton.” Aubrey slid a sharp look in Ben’s direction. Would he offer a retort to Cort’s affectionate gesture? But her brother didn’t notice and was starting to whittle.
Aubrey extended her hand, and he helped her up. To his surprise, she didn’t let go immediately but discreetly tugged him away from Ben and toward the plow. “It’s time to get to work now.” She threw her voice loudly. When they were a good distance from her brother, she let go of his hand and turned to him. A softness pervaded her face like rain freshening a thirsty flower bed.
“What are you thinking, Boss?” he mumbled, stepping closer. A magnetic pull grew strong and unavoidable.
“I’m just curious about your trip to town, that’s all.” Her eyes rounded with expectancy. “Has anything changed?”
A warmth filled his chest. “You mean, my secret?”
She lowered her eyes. “Well, yes. I mean, your secret keeps you from town, doesn’t it? And it keeps you from promising to stay?” She bit her lip and her hand flew to her mouth.
“You want me to stay, don’t you?” And she shouldn’t. And he should take every precaution to protect her from the inevitable.
