She held up her hand. “Now before you try and dissuade me, listen to my reasons. I cannot continue to accept charity. It makes me look weak, and that’s not something I can allow. I expect you’re getting paid for the work.”
It wasn’t exactly the case. He drew wages from the ranch. Eddie had allowed him to take on this job off the ranch because it suited everyone to get the church done as quickly as possible.
“I’m not asking much, but I will help, and you can pay me from the pay you receive. All I need is enough to buy my meals from Bonnie.”
Well, if she didn’t take the cake when it came to expectations. “What do you know about woodworking?”
“Nothing. But how hard can it be?”
He snorted. “I learned woodworking from my father.” Back in Texas. He hadn’t seen Pa since he married Alice and moved to Wyoming, where he’d started a little ranch of his own. He slammed the door on the intrusion of memories. He could blame Clara for this constant struggle to keep them at bay. “Pa said woodworking is like playing a musical instrument. Those who do it well make it look easy.”
“I couldn’t say. I’ve never seen anyone make something from wood.”
“Yet you expect me to hire you to help?”
The fierceness in her expression faded, leaving her uncertain. “Couldn’t you teach me to do something?”
He considered the idea. He didn’t need help. Didn’t want it. Most certainly didn’t fancy the idea of having Clara and the girls underfoot day after day. But wasn’t she moving on? Soon, if he didn’t misread her intentions.
If he agreed to let her help, at least he would have the assurance she wasn’t starving herself out of pure foolish pride.
“Fine, but I can’t pay you. All the work done on the church is on a volunteer basis.”
The wind went out of her so quickly he thought she’d collapse.
“But the Mortons feed me as their part in the work. If you’re helping here, they’d expect to volunteer meals for you just as they do for me.”
She lifted her chin. “Fine. Then I accept.”
She accepted? As if she did him a favor? He laughed outright. The sound rumbled from his chest. He stopped. Blue never laughed anymore, and yet he’d done it twice in one morning.
She held out her hand. “Agreed?”
“Agreed.” He slowly brought his hand up to hers and shook. He drew back so suddenly he almost pulled her off balance. But he hadn’t touched a woman in two years. It felt strangely pleasant.
“Now show me what to do.”
“You certainly are bossy.”
The girls had been dragging their boots through the sawdust, leaving little trails, but they looked up at his comment.
“You called Mama a bad word.” Libby sounded affronted.
“What bad word did I say?”
“You said bossy. Mama says we aren’t to say that to people. But you did.” Poor Libby looked so shocked Blue rushed to apologize.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was a bad word.” He glanced toward Clara. She grinned as if she enjoyed his discomfort. Which was hardly fair seeing as he’d never before considered it a bad word.
“It’s okay.” She patted his arm. “Libby will be sure and straighten you out if your language gets too rough.” She laughed, a sound so pure and sweet he could only stare.
He quickly came to his senses. “You’re enjoying this a little too much.” He tried his best to sound aggrieved.
“Sorry. But the look on your face was priceless.”
It was time to get things back to order. He hunkered down in front of the sections of a pew he’d cut. “This is what I have so far. The wood is oak. One of the finest woods they make, in my opinion. Look at the beautiful grain.”
She ran her fingers over the wood. “It is nice.”
“Nice?” He took a beat of silence. Did he expect her to see the beauty of the wood just because he did? “Of course, it isn’t finished yet. By the time I run my plane over it a few times, it will be so smooth you won’t believe it.”
Libby squatted at his side. “Like Mama’s skin?”
Clara blushed bright red.
Blue grinned. It was her turn to have Libby cause her problems. “You keep your mama on her toes, don’t you?”
Libby studied her mother’s feet. “No. She’s not on her toes.”
Eleanor sighed. “Lib, it’s a saying. It means you make her pay attention.”
“To what?”
“To what you are going to say or do next.”
Libby stood up and held her hands in the air in a gesture of confusion. “But how can she know? Even I don’t know.”
Clara rolled her head back and forth. “And that’s a good portion of the problem.”
Blue returned to his full height. His eyes caught hers, and they laughed as they silently acknowledged how this child had embarrassed them both by turn.
She’d done something more, he realized. She’d put them both a bit more at ease.
But was that a good thing or not?
He jerked away and led Clara to the sawhorses. “You can help me measure each piece.” He showed her the plans he’d drawn. “This is what we’re going to make.”
She studied the drawings, then nodded. “Looks simple enough.”
“It is. All I have to do is make sure each cut is exact, the grain is always going the right direction and everything fits together perfectly.”
“Don’t you mean all we have to do?”
“We’ll see.” He had a whole wagonload of doubts about how much help she’d be.
His plans seemed a vague dream at the moment.
He positioned a length of lumber on the sawhorses. “First, we measure. Hold the end of the tape there.” He showed her and took the first measurement. “Hold it firmly. Even a fraction of an inch can have a bearing on the finished product.”
“I have it.”
The girls stood close by, watching.
He measured several different places where he would have to cut. “Now I’ll measure again and make sure they’re all correct.”
“Again? Did I do something wrong?”
“No, but the rule is measure twice, cut once. It’s the safest way.”
“Hmm.” She held the tape as he repeated the process.
“Okay.” He rolled the tape and stuck it in his pocket. “Now I’ll cut.” With long steady strokes, he cut the pieces for the end of the pew. Two for each pew and one for the middle.
Patiently, he allowed her to help him measure each piece needed for the rest of the pew. “Now I need to plane them smooth.”
She blushed as if remembering Libby’s earlier remarks.
Ignoring her reaction, he slid the planer over the wood. Paper-thin curls of wood peeled off.
The girls knelt beside him. “Can we have those?” They pointed at the curls.
“Don’t see why not.”
They gathered up the bits and carried them to the corner, where they were soon busy playing some game.
Blue returned to the task, concentrating on the sound of the blade and his movements.
“Can I do that?” Clara’s voice startled him from his thoughts. “It looks like fun.”
He stared at the planer. He enjoyed the work. But if he didn’t let her do enough to qualify as help in her eyes, who knew what she’d do? He turned over the piece meant to be the seat so she could work on the bottom, where her mistakes wouldn’t show. “Push down just enough to start it shaving. Then keep the pressure firm and continue clear through to the end.” He let her take the planer.
It caught. It stuttered. There would be cross lines at every stop.
“You made it look so easy.” She sounded annoyed, as if she blamed him for her failures. Then she clenched her teeth and started again. Stalled again.
He saw her problem. “Steady pressure. Like this.” And before he could think to stop himself, he placed his hand over hers on the planer and showed her how to do it. A thousand sensations rushed
through him. They threatened the boundaries he had so carefully and solidly built. And yet there was something about them that filled him with comfort.
He jerked back and let her do it herself.
She grinned as the shavings peeled from the wood.
For some strange reason, he grinned, too, pleased at her success.
Then he wrenched his attention away. He had work to do here and put his mind to building pews until the morning passed.
“It’s time for dinner.” He grabbed his coat and was halfway out the door before he stopped himself. Like it or hate it, he couldn’t hurry away and leave them to walk across on their own.
*
Clara fairly bubbled with excitement as she traipsed across to the Mortons’ for dinner. She’d never seen a piece of furniture under construction before, never dreamed she might have a part in the process. Yes, it was a small part. But hopefully one the Mortons would deem worthy of a meal for her and the girls.
Bonnie flew to Clara’s side as they entered the room. “I was worried about you. I went over to invite you to join me here. I know the shack is small and thought you might like to visit. But when you weren’t there…” She fluttered her hands.
“I’m helping at the church.”
Bonnie stared at her. Claude came to her side. “Are you helping Blue?”
“Yes.”
“Why, I think that’s a great idea.” Claude squeezed his wife’s shoulders, and they gave each other a glance that seemed full of secrets.
Clara wouldn’t look at Blue to see his reaction. But she sensed if he thought the pair saw romance budding between them he would run for the hills and never return. But he needn’t worry. One thing she did not want or need in her life was a man. And she meant to prove it. To her father, to anyone who might voice a concern and most of all to herself.
She wondered how to broach the subject of receiving the meals in exchange for help at the church when Claude spoke up.
“Our contribution is to provide meals to those who work on the church. Clara, that includes you, so sit down and enjoy the food Bonnie has prepared.”
“Thank you.” For the first time since she’d stepped off the stagecoach at Edendale, she felt as though she could achieve at least part of her goal. Why, was that just yesterday? It seemed so much longer.
God had provided in a way she could not have imagined, and she ate the meal with gratitude. When she offered to help wash up, Bonnie waved her away. “I have all afternoon to do it. You go on back and help Blue.”
Blue had departed a few moments earlier and now Clara and the girls followed his footprints back to the church.
Clara suspected he might wish she’d change her mind about helping him, but he’d soon learn she wouldn’t.
Eleanor went to Blue. “Mama says we must do our share. What can we do?”
He straightened and met Clara’s eyes over the girls’ heads.
She gaped. She had not meant for the girls to feel they, too, must earn their food. Parents provided for children.
Libby teetered back and forth on the balls of her feet. “Mama says we should owe no man nothing. She says that’s in the Bible.”
Blue’s eyebrows rose, and his lips twitched. “Is that a fact?” His gaze rested on Clara.
“If Mama says it’s true, then it is.” Eleanor spoke with utmost loyalty.
Clara could almost believe she saw a twinkle in Blue’s eyes.
“Glad to see you girls listen to your mama.”
The pair nodded their heads as Clara floundered for a way to explain that although she’d said the words, she’d meant them for herself, not the girls.
Blue leaned back on his heels. “And now you want to help?”
More nodding.
“That’s a very noble thing. Let’s see.” He looked around the room.
Clara did, too. It might be good if the girls had something to do that made them feel useful, but what on earth could two little girls do that wouldn’t put them underfoot?
“Well, you could always make sure there are three pieces of firewood by the stove. You could keep the stack by the door neat. When I’m not sawing, you could clean up the sawdust and put it in that coal pail.” He pointed. “And I think you could keep those buckets full of snow. I melt it for my water. You think that’s enough?”
“Yes,” they chorused and sprang into action, grabbing the buckets and heading outdoors to find snow. There was plenty from a previous snowfall along the north side of the church and in the trees.
Clara waited until the door closed behind them. “Thank you. That’s most generous of you to give them useful tasks.”
He picked up a board and carried it to the sawhorse. “Children should feel useful and appreciated.”
“I certainly agree. Even if they’re girls.”
He put the board down and stared at her. “What difference does it make if they are boys or girls? Each child can contribute something.”
Not wanting to meet his gaze, she stared at the board between them. “Some people don’t value girls the same way.”
“Well, that’s just plumb foolish.”
She wondered if he truly believed it or only thought he did. “You said you had two children. Were they girls?”
“One of each.” His answer was curt, and she glanced at him. His eyes had grown cold and distant.
“Did you treat your daughter as you did your son?”
He grabbed the tape measure. “I have no idea what you mean. Here, let’s measure this.”
She took the end of the tape and held it where he pointed. She understood his reluctance to talk about his losses and would not press him even though she was a bit curious. But that was all. What events had shaped his life mattered little to her. Just as her life mattered little to him. They’d been thrown together by accident, and only temporarily. Not that she wasn’t grateful for a warm place to sleep, good food to eat and a job that allowed her to earn her own way.
He tossed aside the tape measure as if it had offended him. Then he grabbed it and stuffed it in his pocket. “Would you like to see how the pews are going to look?”
“I’d love to. You know, I never considered the workmanship that goes into furniture making.” She ran her hand along the smooth finish of a piece of wood ready to assemble. “But it’s kind of fun.”
He nodded, his eyes again alive with feelings. “Wait until you see the finished product. You’ll be amazed at how much pride it gives you to know you had a part in making it.” He stood up a piece of wood cut in an angled L shape. “Hold this.”
She did so as he stood up a matching piece. The girls skidded in at that moment, snow dusting their coats, their faces rosy from being outside.
“Who’d like to help put the pew together?” Blue asked.
“Me,” the girls cried in unison and shed their coats.
“Hang them up,” Clara reminded them.
They did so, then hurried to Blue’s side. He showed them how to hold the other upright and picked up another piece. “This will be the seat.” As he worked, he explained everything he did.
He screwed the seat into place. Clara helped him with the back and let herself glow with pride to realize he would have struggled to do it on his own.
“There is our first pew.” He stood back, hands on his hips, grinning. “Who wants to try it out?”
The girls didn’t need any more invitation. They sat down and folded their hands primly as if attending a service.
“It’s very nice,” Eleanor said.
Libby ran her hands along the seat. “It’s so smooth. Just like Mama’s—”
“Libby!” Clara could not let her again mention her smooth skin. She’d already been embarrassed enough.
Blue chuckled.
Clara remembered what Bonnie had said about him. That she’d never heard him laugh. Seems her girls had restored his ability.
She sneaked a glance at him. Did he appreciate it or resent it? She couldn’t tell from his expression.<
br />
“You and Mama should try it out, too,” Eleanor said.
Clara hesitated. She didn’t care to sit next to the man on a church pew. She tried to assess her feelings. They’d bent over the same piece of wood, he’d guided her hand when she tried to plane the wood that now made up the seat of the pew, she’d walked across the yard with him. Why would sitting side by side on the pew make any difference?
It didn’t.
Aware the girls watched her curiously, she sat down next to them.
Blue faced them. He eyed the spot beside her.
She almost laughed at the wary expression on his face. So she wasn’t the only one who found this a bit awkward.
“Mr. Blue,” Libby said. “It’s a nice bench.”
“I’m sure it will hold all of us.” Eleanor paused. “Won’t it?”
“Of course it will. I made it strong.” He took the two steps that brought him to them and sat down, perching as if ready to run for the hills at any moment.
The idea so amused her that she couldn’t contain a chuckle. She tried to cover it with a cough.
He turned and regarded her with narrowed eyes. “Are you laughing at me?”
She nodded. “But no more than at myself. I was just as leery about sitting here, though I have no idea why.”
He sucked in air and slowly relaxed until he sat against the back of the pew. “Nor do I.” He shifted a little. “The pew is quite comfortable.”
“Yes, it is.”
The girls got down and hurried over to the sawdust with broom and dustpan.
Blue and Clara remained on the pew. For a pair so reluctant to sit they showed no sign of being in a hurry to get up.
Clara told herself it was simply that it felt good to rest for a few minutes. When was the last time she felt so relaxed? She tried to think. Certainly not since she’d left her father’s house. Not while she was living there, either. Maybe when she’d lived in the house Rolland had provided. Her own little domain. Would she ever have such a thing again?
Blue shifted to glance at her. “That was a mighty big sigh.”
“I didn’t even realize I sighed.”
He continued to study her.
She met his eyes and saw the questions and uncertainty there. Likely he hoped she would explain what she was doing in Edendale. But she dared not. She suspected that if Father showed up, Blue would feel it his duty to turn her and the girls over to his authority.
Love Inspired Historical October 2015 Box Set Page 72
