Rancher to the Rescue
Page 13
“Nonsense. I’ve been sitting for days. The only bit of exercise I was able to get came when the train stopped. Besides, I don’t expect you to wait on me like I’m some high-and-mighty lady.” She quickly shed the jacket that matched her skirt, hung it up on the hook behind the back door, and then pushed up the long sleeves of her modest blouse. “I intend to pull my weight. Let’s get started, shall we? What kind of vegetables would you like to have tonight?”
Before long, Miss Worth was peeling the carrots Clare had discovered, leaving Clare to prepare the meat and providing ample time for her to mull everything over. Noah had disapproved of Miss Worth’s opinions, but still had the generosity to think of the older woman and purchase all these vegetables at the high price they’d be at the end of winter. Had he done this for the sole purpose of showing Miss Worth how good he was?
No. He’d have made sure both women saw the delivery, but Clare was sure he hadn’t expected her to catch him. The pantry door was shut tight, but it was rarely so. He must have secured it just before she walked in.
Or was the irony of providing for Miss Worth after they’d shared such terse words too much to resist?
Again, no, she thought. He’d bought it all because the need was there. Still, she hated that she didn’t even know her fiancé enough to answer that question.
Clare bit her lip. She would eventually know her husband, but right now, all she could feel was that same warm, heart-wrenching emotion. What he’d done was incredibly touching.
She swallowed. How was she supposed to stay independent while Noah was stepping up and saving her all the time?
She was so ungrateful. Noah was being kind, and she should be thankful she had him to lean on.
It was certainly compelling to have him.
She threw off the unsettling feelings. They would do her no good. Slicing the cured meat thin so that it would cook quicker, Clare knew they’d be able to get a decent meal on the table in less than an hour. Thankfully, Miss Worth cut the root vegetables into fine cubes for faster boiling. She announced that one shouldn’t waste wood nor heat a house that was in mourning. Since the older woman avoided flour, Clare had stirred together a small rice pudding, with only a scraping of the new sugar cone to sweeten it, and slipped it into the oven to cook while the meat simmered in a frying pan.
She stepped into the pantry to return the sugarloaf and found a small sack of raisins. She lifted it, but paused. Although her mother had taught her to toss in a handful of dried fruit into rice pudding, Clare decided against it, lest Miss Worth find the dessert too rich. Besides, it would be nice to make a raisin cake for Noah at some point.
Setting the sack down, Clare spied a small roll of brown paper tucked in behind. She pulled it out.
Two candy sticks.
Noah had bought some candy for the boys no doubt, as Clare didn’t expect he’d thought that she and her mentor would enjoy sucking on them after supper.
“What’s that?”
Clare looked up. Miss Worth had finished her task and was wiping her hands on a towel as she looked down at what Clare held.
“Candy sticks. I just found them.”
Miss Worth clicked her tongue. “They’re a waste of money and hardly good for anyone.”
“They’re just a treat,” Clare reminded gently.
“Given to children to bribe them to stay quiet.” The older woman shook her head. “We need to teach children to sit still and concentrate on behaving.”
Staring at the candy sticks, Clare said nothing more. Miss Worth hadn’t had to deal with Tim and Leo. Even she had not yet found the special trick that would result in her brothers staying calm and obedient. She doubted it existed. Miss Worth was simply a childless spinster with little experience with small boys.
Had Noah bought these so that Clare would be able to bribe them?
Regardless of the answer, Noah had again thought of everything.
As Clare had noted many times in the past, she could reconcile Miss Worth’s ideas on child rearing with her other professor’s more liberal advice. Professor Cullen, an older, grandfatherly man, would often say children needed the freedom to speak their minds and be allowed to get into mischief. He believed that the outspoken, curious child would grow to become strong and independent, exactly what the United States needed. Strong, independent children were good for this country. Clare knew he’d fathered ten children who’d then given him over twenty grandchildren so far.
She pushed the treats back in behind the dried goods, with no desire to tell Miss Worth that Noah had bought these. He was already a black sheep just by proposing to Clare.
Oh, dear. Is that how she saw him, too?
“I promise there will be no bribing them,” she assured her mentor.
Still, Clare’s conscience pricked at her. Who was she trying to fool? She had already tried to bribe Tim and Leo with Mrs. Turcot’s Washington cake. She hastily rearranged the tinned goods so that the candy was hidden further.
Her gaze dropped down to the larger sacks of root vegetables. Noah disapproved of Miss Worth’s sharp opinions and yet, he had gone out of his way to provide all the food that they so obviously needed. Indeed, he’d purchased extra vegetables as Miss Worth had already announced that she avoided all flour and baked items as she now considered them unhealthy.
What was unhealthy was a marriage like the one Clare and Noah were about to have. If it were only loneliness, she would have more readily accepted the reason for marriage. Instead, a financial crisis that left her resenting her own beloved father, then feeling guilty and convicted for it. That had been her reason.
Yes, getting married would help her adopt her brothers, but right that moment, Clare realized with growing sadness, resentment and fear had provided most of the fuel for her decision.
Fear. Selfish fear.
Maybe she should do as Miss Worth always advised. Buckle down, live frugally, work hard and be fearless. Instead, she’d given in to the easiest solution and accepted a proposal from a man who was far too noble and unselfish for her.
How was she going to get through the days, knowing she was the exact opposite?
Chapter Twelve
You’re selfish, Noah told himself. Keeping your secrets, allowing Clare to believe you are noble and honorable. Even your attempts to correct her were feeble and cowardly.
You’re a liar, too, for allowing a lie to stand was as bad as anything Elizabeth might have said to people after you left.
He flicked the reins to encourage the horse to a trot, and the wagon jostled over the ruts made a few weeks ago when a long spell of wet weather had turned the roads into muddy soup for days on end. After that, the air cleared and dried and deep ruts remained. Beside him, Leo flopped back and forth and received a push from his brother for his exaggerated antics. Leo shoved him back.
Immediately, Noah remembered the delicate photograph frames and special glass ornaments he’d packed in the boxes that sat behind him.
As soon as they reached the less used trail that led to his house, the ground smoothed. Noah wordlessly took advantage of the opportunity. He stood and deposited himself between the boys. The brothers went still, knowing they’d been caught.
Perhaps it was a good thing that he’d taken the boys with him, leaving Clare to visit with her mentor. Tim and Leo would keep his mind and body busy, as they’d done last night. Keep his mind from constantly reminding him that all those good deeds he’d done for Clare would never negate the fact that he was the least noble person in Proud Bend.
“Why did you buy all that food for Clare and not us?” Leo asked as they closed in on the house.
“She needs it. We don’t.”
“Aren’t you going to feed us?” Tim asked, his tone anxious.
“Of course I am.” Noah pulled to a stop between his small r
anch house and the stable. He turned to the boys. “But first, give me your jackets.”
“What for?” Tim asked.
“I’m going to hang them in the stable. I want Turnip to get used to you. If he smells your scents, and nothing happens, he’ll learn to be calmer around you.”
The boys peeled off their jackets but stayed out of the stable while Noah hung them up on hooks beside Turnip’s stall. The old pony had refused to come in again last night, but Noah could see him through the open door to the large corral. He was watching them cautiously. With the clear sky and cooler weather, the animal would soon want to return to his warm stall. Noah was sure of that.
After unhitching his horse, Noah led the boys, each loaded with a box suitable for their size and strength, into the kitchen. He had enough food left from last night to tide them over until supper. In the cellar storehouse, he had a large, whole chicken hanging there ready to cook. He’d originally planned to cook it tomorrow so he and his ranch hand could have a good meal when the man showed up on Tuesday, but circumstances had changed. Instead, he dressed it and stuffed it into the Dutch oven to cook for supper while the leftovers were heating on the stovetop.
With extra griddle cakes he could cook quickly, he should be able to fill up the boys enough to allow everyone to have something to eat for a few days.
The brothers helped Noah, and he was glad for the distraction. They chattered about all the things boys enjoyed: wild animals and the fast horses they’d seen; the sheriff and his identical twin brother whom everyone thought was him, even the dogs that roamed around town; and that little girl from school who wasn’t allowed to get dirty.
As they sat down, Noah reminded them they all needed to pray. Tim shut his eyes lightly, while Leo clasped his hands together and slammed shut his eyes so firmly, a frown appeared.
Suppressing a smile, Noah prayed. It was short, focusing on gratitude for the meal. After he said amen, Tim peered at him. “Are our ma and pa in heaven?”
Noah’s hand froze as he leaned over the table to serve the beans. “Yes.”
“How is God going to find them if they are in the ocean?”
“God sees everything. You know that.”
“Did he see when Leo was pushing me in the cart?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t hurt you, Tim!”
“Pa wouldn’t have let you do that.”
As Leo opened his mouth to refute it, Noah held up his hand. “That’s enough. Just don’t do it again. One of you could get hurt or fall off the cart.”
Tim’s eyes narrowed. “So what?”
Noah finished dishing out the food, suspecting the boy was testing him. “Tim, you may not believe this, but I do care what happens to you.”
Tim’s expression turned skeptical, but he said nothing. Noah drew in a breath, trying to sort out what to say. Finally, after a quick prayer for help, he said, “Your mother and father would do anything for you. As would Clare. Because she loves you. I care for you, too.”
“Do you love Clare, too? Matthew MacLeod says you have to love a person to marry them.”
Noah swallowed. He could feel both boys staring at him. “I care as much for Clare as I care for you.” He smiled and chuckled to himself. Was he adopting Clare’s newfangled ideas on raising children?
“Why are you laughing?”
Noah quickly cleared his throat. “I’m thinking of how I can prove to you that I care. Let’s see. Food? Got that. Bedtime stories? Got them. What’s left? Putting you in your room because you acted up on the cart?”
They both stared with stricken expressions.
Noah burst out laughing. “Eat up, boys. I’ll let you go this time.”
It was nearly suppertime when the pounding of a horse’s hooves caught their attention. Tim and Leo abandoned the small chores he assigned them to race to the window.
“It’s Clare!” Tim called out. Both boys tore out of the house.
* * *
A few minutes later, and surprised to see her there, Noah helped Clare step down from her family’s small wagon. She wore a different outfit than her Sunday best, but the skirt and tailored jacket were simple and modest in design and color.
Her eyes were puffy and her cheeks were stained with whitish tracks of tears. Noah knew she’d been crying on her fifteen-minute ride out there. The boys hugged her as if she’d been gone for years while Noah simply frowned. “You’ve been crying,” he said quietly.
“Just thinking about my parents,” Clare whispered back over the tops of the boys’ heads. She shook her head as if to ask him to say nothing more about it. “I know it’s almost suppertime, but I wanted to come out here before then.”
Noah squeezed her arm. Then with a glance into the wagon, he said, “You came alone.”
“Miss Worth is sleeping,” she explained. “We had a late and rather large lunch and I am sure she didn’t sleep on the train. She’s exhausted so after she went upstairs I decided to bring over what I’d managed to pack up of my parents’ things. I also found some more clean work clothes for the boys. You may need them.”
She gave the boys one more hug and set them away from her. “I also want to thank you for all the food,” she said to Noah. “You were an absolute answer to prayer, especially buying the extra vegetables.”
Noah looked away, answering gruffly, “It was nothing, really.”
He glanced back at her. She looked as uncomfortable as he suddenly felt. When their gazes accidentally bumped into each other, she quickly scanned the sky. “The wind is picking up.” She peered down at the boys. “Where are your jackets?”
Tim pointed to the stable. “Noah put them in the stable.”
She gasped. “You two didn’t roll in manure, did you?”
“I want Turnip to get used to their scent,” Noah explained. “I figured if he has a chance to smell their jackets overnight, meeting them again won’t be so difficult.” He looked pointedly at the boys. “But we need to behave around him. Understand?”
They nodded solemnly. Clare rolled her eyes. “Oh, they understand. But do they listen?”
“They will, won’t you, boys?” He gave them a knowing look. “Now, let’s help your sister.” Noah walked to the back of the wagon. He lowered the gate and took the smallest box to give it to Leo. A sack of clothes he gave to Tim. Soon they were all carrying in something from Clare’s house.
“Where are you going to put all of this?”
“I have a large wardrobe in the boys’ room. We’ll get it all in there.”
Half an hour later, after Noah had unhooked her family horse and led him into the corral where Turnip and his horse grazed, Clare inspected the careful storage of her family’s things. Noah watched her. When she looked up, her glistening eyes wore a hollow look.
He turned to the boys. “Go finish your chores, boys. If you’re good, we’ll have a treat.”
After Tim and Leo left, Clare murmured, “I found the candy sticks you bought, but I didn’t bring them. Miss Worth doesn’t believe that children should be bribed. They should be taught discipline.”
“I agree, but bribery is one thing, rewards are another. That’s why I brought two of them home with me.”
Clare shut the wardrobe doors and turned the small skeleton key. “Ah, but a little bribery now and again can’t hurt. Don’t tell Miss Worth I said that. She doesn’t know what it’s like living with Tim and Leo.”
He remembered hearing Miss Worth’s booming voice and grimaced. “Don’t you want another lecture?”
“No, it actually feels a bit shameful to disagree with her.” She looked decidedly resigned. “She’s been good to me. When I first arrived at college, I was absolutely lost. I had no idea what to do or where to go, and she took me under her wing.”
“You must not have been the onl
y lost soul at college.”
“Oh, I wasn’t, but I think Miss Worth saw something in me. The same day that I arrived, I stood up to an older student, a woman who liked to throw her weight around a lot. I didn’t like the way she was humiliating another young woman for not knowing where to go. I was the same way. When Miss Worth learned of what I did, she must have decided I had what it took to be her prize student.”
“You are a strong woman.”
Clare’s expression clouded. “Not strong enough, I expect. Miss Worth doesn’t believe I should marry. She thinks I should just work harder, live more frugally and fight to keep the boys.” Her eyes glistened. “I have a confession, Noah. I don’t think I am that strong.”
“You are.”
Clare’s skeptical look suggested a different opinion.
“You’re thinking of this morning at church?” he asked.
She seemed to be pondering whether to speak. “Most there are loving and kind. Take Mrs. Turcot for instance. She heard the sad news and did something. She’ll rejoice later when I get married because I saw the same thing when Victoria married Mitch. But let’s face it. Some of the parishioners can be critical. They will hear that we’re having a quick wedding and think it’s for a disreputable reason. I know I shouldn’t say that, especially about my fellow churchgoers, but it’s true.”
“Let them think what they like. They’ll learn the truth eventually.”
“In the meantime, it hurts. I know I should learn to rise above it, as you said in church, but I felt so embarrassed when some people assumed the worst.” Clare looked away. “If they knew what my father did, they’d be critical toward him. I don’t want that, either.”
Again, Noah felt his ire rise. But this time, it was tempered by compassion. Yes, he thought with wonder. Compassion for Clare and all she was going through. Getting mad would do her little good.
He stood still a moment, allowing his anger to cool. When it had done so, he said, “No one has the right to criticize you or your father. Yours is a unique, complicated situation.”
“It’s not a situation. It’s a mess.” With sagging shoulders, Clare grabbed his arm. “Miss Worth doesn’t seem to understand, and she isn’t known for her sympathy anyway. But I can’t blame her. She’s never had to experience what I’m going through.”