A Man for Annalee (12 page)

Boone didn’t reply. Two Bears was already gone, silent in his departure. He gathered an armful of wood and started stacking it, all the while his eyes on the lookout for Annalee.

****

For Annalee, it was a day of scrubbing, moving furniture, hanging curtains, and meeting family after family of the residents of Cicero Creek. There was laughter, gossip, and tips on surviving on the frontier. Friendships were forged with the town’s women, while what seemed like a steady stream of single men—young and old—paraded in and out of her cabin. Through it all, the sounds of Boone splitting wood mirrored the beat of her heart. None of the men measured up to him.

She also met her grandpa’s ranch hands, who’d spent the afternoon building a sturdier chicken coop, thanks to Boone’s suggestion.

The community supper, spread out in Annalee’s freshly scrubbed kitchen on her new table placed end to end with a make-shift table, was a loud, boisterous, festive event.

Families who lived on ranches beyond the dirt streets of the growing town endured a solitary life, according to Cora. Evidently get-togethers like this were a welcome excuse to gather for fellowship. Women exchanged child-rearing tips and how to make medicines from herbs and tree bark. Men shared advice on raising crops and stock. All of this was mingled with sweet laughter spiced with good food.

Minnie had baked the two hams Boone provided in the oven of Annalee’s cast iron cookstove. She also fried four chickens. Cora brought sweet potatoes she’d grown in her garden the previous summer. Loaves of freshly baked bread and two chocolate cakes came from Gertie’s bakery. Every family brought a dish or two, so the fare was diverse and plentiful.

Franklin, enjoying his role as host, gave a quick speech of thanks for everyone’s help and then offered grace for the bountiful meal. The men were served first. They loaded their plates and went outside to eat, sitting on the porch or leaning against the trees.

Children were served next, many still grumbling because they’d had to wash their hands at the pump before being allowed near the heavily laden table. And why, they wanted to know, did they have to eat meat and vegetables when there was chocolate cake?

Boone stepped into her crowded kitchen and patted his stomach. “Ladies, thank you for the delicious meal you’ve prepared. I don’t know when I’ve tasted better.” He smiled slow and wide, his dimples blinking. “You outdid yourselves for sure. And
how
is it you’ve all gotten prettier since the last time I saw you?”

Well, would you just listen to him?
Women tittered, the blush of feminine happiness on their cheeks. Boone talked, charming them all as if he’d kissed the Blarney Stone in Ireland, himself. Her mother would be laughing right now for she, too, had been charmed by a man blessed with charisma and wit. When he aimed his powerful smile at Annalee, her heart stilled, thumped twice, and then rolled over the cliff into love. Fear swiped all the moisture from her mouth. She could not love and lose again.

“Your new home looks lovely, Annalee. Almost as lovely as you.”

Oh, he was a dangerous one, he was.

Levi, gentle giant of the town, stooped to clear the doorway into the kitchen. “Boonie, are you in here flirting vith all these vomen? I t’ink I vant to be marshal vhen I grow up.”

“If’n you was to grow anymore, a woman would get a crick in her neck jest lookin’ up atcha.” Minnie slapped Levi on the arm and cackled. “Of course an old woman like me wouldn’t mind gettin’ a crick now and again. You is a handsome fella, that’s fer sure.”

Levi’s blush blossomed from pink to red to deep cherry red. He ducked his head and hurried back outside.

While the ladies filled their plates, Annalee gathered stacks of dirty dishes left by the men and children and set them in hot water. She nibbled on a piece of chicken, its skin fried crisp. Her mother came to mind as she glanced around the kitchen at the women sharing a meal, gossiping and exchanging tips. How her mother would have enjoyed today with this friendly group.

The day drew to an end. There were hugs and goodbyes with promises to come visit. Annalee reveled in this strong sense of community.

Cora and Franklin stood on the porch along with Boone and her, waving farewell as the last of their guests headed across the creek to their homes. Franklin placed his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Well, ladies, I’d say the day was a success. Shall we head home, Cora?”

“Yes, I’m quite tired.”

Franklin took Annalee’s hand and patted it awkwardly. “Some words need said, Annalee.” He glanced at his wife and cleared his throat. “Cora and I need a family. Children are given to young adults, not folks our age. Still, Cora needs someone to mother. We consider it providence you’ve come into our lives. Now, I know we can never replace your parents, but we can be there for you when you need someone. Would it be a hardship for you to think of us as family?”

A fear, strong and nagging, wrapped its cold fingers around her heart.
What if I lose them like I did Momma and Da?
How would I survive another tragic loss? Annalee looked from Franklin to Cora. Hope and loneliness shadowed their eyes. They’d lost both of their sons in the Civil War. They’d endured great sorrow, too. Yet they were reaching out, extending the greatest of gifts—their hearts. How could she allow her fears to hurt them?

“You both are wonderful, and I’d be honored to be considered your family.”

Franklin’s smile deepened his wrinkles. “Then it’s settled.” He drew her into an embrace. “Anything you need, you come to us, darlin’.”

Boone cleared his throat. “She’ll have me to help her, too, Franklin. You know I’ve made my intentions clear.”

She fingered the folds of her linsey-woolsey skirt. On more than one occasion, she’d struggled with the fears a marriage would bring. “I’ve not been asked how I feel about having a man in my life.” Annalee turned her gaze to him and met his determined scowl.

Cora’s sniffles drew her attention. The older lady wiped tears with a wadded-up embroidered handkerchief. “I couldn’t be happier about your decision, dear. I know I can never take your momma’s place, but we could become very close, you and I. Won’t you come to dinner tomorrow after church?”

“Church? Where is the church in Cicero Creek?” She couldn’t recall seeing one.

“Now there’s a bone of contention between the men and women of our town.” Cora glared at both men, who shifted their feet in discomfort. “We hold services in the Red Garter. Can you believe it?”

“Don’t get started, Cora.” Franklin placed his hand on her back. “The town will build a church eventually.”

“I daresay that’s a promise you men aren’t moving heaven and earth to bring to fruition. Take me home, Franklin. I’m tired.” She pursed her lips and regarded Boone. “Marshal, will you be leaving with us? It won’t be seemly for you to stay here without a proper chaperone.”

“Cora, no one cares if I stay on for another hour to talk things over with Annalee. I’ll build her fire for the night before I go.”

Franklin laughed. “Heavens, man, that’s exactly what she’s worried about.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Are you besmirching my character?” Annalee felt her temper rise. “My morals are quite upright, I’ll have you know. Why, I’m a graduate of Miss Feather’s Finishing School for Refined Ladies of Culture and Proper Decorum.”

To her surprise, Boone enveloped her in a hug and whispered in her ears. “I’ll leave with them and return shortly with Nugget. He’ll make you a good watch dog, and I won’t have to worry so much about you being alone.”

“All right.” Evening was approaching, with its lengthening shadows and strange noises, and she was starting to be apprehensive.

Annalee stood on the porch as the Maguire wagon rattled down the hill. Boone rode beside them. Cora turned one last time to wave, and she smiled as she waved back. Family. She’d been given family. How unexpected.

Even so, feelings of emptiness and isolation quietly settled around her in the stillness of this cool fall night. A squirrel scampered up a tree. Bare branches rattled, echoing in the still dusk air. Quiet. It was so quiet here. Fallen leaves rustled as an unknown animal scurried to its home. A shiver darted up her spine. For the first time in her life, she was alone, away from civilization. On her own and scared.

Well, she could do nothing about being alone, but she could refuse to be scared. She would not allow the seclusion of the wilderness to frighten her. She stood there, forcing herself to take four deep breaths of the crisp air, just to prove to herself and the world that she would
not
cower. Determined to handle whatever life dealt her, she turned and walked into her new home.

In her kitchen, she reached for the kerosene lamp on its pulley apparatus over the table, pulling it down to touch a match to the wick. The room, growing dark in the evening’s dusk, suddenly glowed with illumination. Pumping water into her new teapot, she set it on the stove to heat.

The red checked curtains she’d made gave the kitchen a feminine appeal. The new piece of red oilcloth on her kitchen table helped, too. Mason jars of canned meat, vegetables, fruits, and jellies, gifts from the women of the community, filled two of the shelves Levi had hung for her.

She tugged the curtains together to block out the night. Her kitchen was warm and inviting, and for a few minutes she indulged in thinking of friends she’d have over for meals. If only Emma Rose were here. She missed her best friend from Chicago.

Maybe before bedtime she’d write her a letter. Emma Rose was a hard worker and a wizard with the needle. If she could convince her to come to Cicero Creek, the shop she planned to open would benefit. She’d have Emma Rose’s quick wit to brighten her days and her company to ease the loneliness in this cabin at night. After all, there was that extra bedroom upstairs.

By the time she’d finished her tea, horse hooves sounded on the lane. She hurried to light the kerosene lamps in the sitting room.

A dog barked, its toenails tapping across the porch. Boone’s voice drifted through the door. “It’s us, Annalee.”

She opened the door and Nugget shot inside. Boone’s arms were full when he followed the dog into the house. “Why the lumber?”

“I’m putting up strong iron brackets to hold these beams to bar your doors from intruders. Lee didn’t believe in locks on the doors, but with you staying here alone, you might feel safer after dark if you know no one can get in.”

Nugget pushed his nose into her hand for her to rub while she and Boone stared at each other for a few seconds. Now that they were finally alone, she felt uncomfortable with her attraction to him. Still, his coming here was an act of kindness, and she was touched.
How am I going to fight my feelings for him? When he gets shot by some miscreant in the line of duty, how will I get over the loss of another person I care about?

She crossed her arms and glared. “Although ’tis thankful I am for your thoughtfulness, you do have a way of taking charge, Marshal.” She had to change the nature of their relationship.

The muscle that bunched in Boone’s jaw when he got angry came to life. “Taking care of people in Cicero Creek is part of my job.” He turned toward her door and let his tools and lumber clatter onto the floor. “And the name’s Boone.” Once he’d removed his coat, he commenced to attach the brackets to the frame of the door. “I know what you’re doing, by the way.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She petted Nugget, who rewarded her with a canine kiss.

Boone kept working at his project. “You’re afraid of what you feel for me.”

“Afraid? Why, I’m not afraid of anything.”
Liar.
She squared her shoulders. “I’ll have you know I’m a graduate of—”

“Miss Feather’s School of Ladies Who Are Afraid to Fall in Love.” He slammed his hammer onto the floor and stood. “I took you for stronger stuff.”

Annalee gasped. “How dare you!”

Boone stood, his angry countenance filling the room. “You think I didn’t see the look of fear in your eyes when Franklin asked you about becoming part of their family? I could read your mind.”

“Don’t you yell at me!”

He stepped toward her. “You’re afraid to care.”

She shook her head. “That’s not true. You’re a fool if you think you can read my mind.”

He grabbed her arms and hauled her to him. His brown eyes bore into hers. “You were wondering how you’d bear it if you lost them. Your first instinct was to protect yourself from further pain.”

How does he know?
She shook her head in dishonest denial, tears blurred her vision. “No,” weakly tumbled from her lips.

“It’s only natural.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks. She shook her head in disagreement while her heart cried out in agreement.
I am afraid. I can’t go through losing someone again. I can’t take the pain.

“You think you won’t survive if you lose someone else. The fear gnaws at you day and night. It makes you strike out at everyone and everything in anger.” He shook her. “Sound familiar?” His voice lowered to a pained whisper. “At times you don’t recognize the person you’ve become. I know because I went through the same thing after my first family died.”

She began sobbing, sobbing so hard she thought she’d never breath normally again.

Boone enveloped her in his arms and rested his chin on her head. Slowly he rocked side to side. “Losing someone you love is not something you get over quickly. The pain resides in your heart a long time.”