Petticoat Ranch (42 page)

Sally shrieked. “And the next time we’re attacked, you have to babysit. It’s your turn.”

“We don’t take turn on attacks. Ma says—” Beth jerked her hair free, fell backward, and staggered into Clay, who threw his arms wide to keep from falling over and smacked Adam across the face.

Adam ran.

Sally and Mandy attacked Beth as a team.

Clay roared, “You girls settle down!”

The girls completely ignored his yelling, so he yelled louder. Sophie went to his side. “Aren’t you pleased?”

Clay decided his wife had lost her mind.

“Can’t you see the girls have decided you won’t quit loving them just because you’re mad?”

Clay hollered over the tumult, “And that’s a good thing?”

“Sure it is.” Sophie scooped Laura up as she toddled past, shrieking. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She thrust Laura into his arms. “I’m going to lie down and rest.”

Clay didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She retreated to her bedroom and closed the door as calmly as if the screaming and yelling were a lullaby to her.

Clay faced his raging daughters and had a bright idea. He charged.

The screams turned to giggles as he was buried under petticoats, while his pretty wife obeyed him in the next room. Life didn’t get any better.

E 
P I L O G U E
       

C
lifton Lazarus McClellen was born early on a bitter winter morning. All the girls slept through it, and Clay probably would have, too. Sophie was determined not to make the doctor ride clear and away out to the ranch in the cold for such a simple thing as bringing a baby.

Except there came a time during her laboring that Sophie quit trying to be brave and quiet and decided all men should die. And since Clay was handy, she might as well start with him. She was too busy to actually do him any damage before he could get out of her reach, though.

Clay panicked as she knew he would, what with him being a man and all. He started to get dressed to go for the doctor. Sophie was in the midst of a tearful appeal to not kill himself going out in the dangerous weather—ironic when a moment ago she’d really wanted him dead— when Cliff made his appearance.

His twin brother, Clayton Jarrod, was born five minutes later, while Clay was trying to wrap Clifton in a blanket Sophie had ready and, at the same time, frantically ordering Sophie to stop being in pain now, since the baby was already here.

When the whirlwind had passed and another blanket had been found, Clay finally calmed down enough to say with immense satisfaction, “We really narrowed the gap between girls and boys in this family.”

“I thought you said you wanted another girl,” Sophie challenged
him, still not very happy with the man who had caused her a very uncomfortable night.

“I lied,” Clay announced with an unrepentant smile. “I wanted a son like the very dickens. I didn’t know how much until this very second.”

Sophie looked at the arms full of babies Clay held and smiled. “I didn’t know how much I wanted a boy either.”

“If you keep having them at this rate, we’ll be tied by next Christmas.”

Back to wanting to kill him, Sophie said, “Just for that, you’re getting up in the night to change their diapers.”

“What’s a diaper?”

Sophie slumped back on the bed and started to cry. Clay sat down beside her. “Sophie, what about rule number one?”

Both boys chose that moment to start howling their heads off.

They wriggled and cried, and Sophie couldn’t take her eyes off of them—until she noticed that Clay’s expression had turned from insufferable pride to pure unadulterated horror.

“I didn’t think boys would cry!”

Sophie forgot all about breaking rule number one because she wanted to laugh. “I’m going to enjoy watching you learn to be a pa to infants.”

Clay looked up from the babies and leaned over to kiss her soundly on the lips. “I’ll be great at it, just like I’ve learned to be a great pa to the girls.”

Sophie laid her hand on Clay’s cheek. “We’ve been through so much together this last year, Clay. I’ve learned as much as you have.”

Clay nodded and looked back at his sons. “We’re going to teach the boys to be good men. To work hard. To respect a woman’s strength.”

Sophie turned the edge of the blanket back on the baby closest to her. “You’ve never gotten over me protecting the ranch all by myself.”

“Why should I get over it? I learned what a special woman I married. And I learned to trust God in everything.”

“Except birthing these babies,” Sophie teased him. “You wanted
the doctor for them.”

Clay ran his rough finger over one tiny fist, looking first from one son then to the other.

Sophie wanted to start crying again from the sweetness of it. She couldn’t hold back what was in her heart. “I love you, Clay.” She knew she shouldn’t say it. Clay wasn’t a man who wanted to talk about such nonsense.

He said very calmly, “I love you, too, Sophie.”

Sophie straightened away from him. “Since when?”

Clay looked away from the babies. “Well, since always, I reckon.”

“But you’ve never said such a thing. Why didn’t you tell me?” Sophie took one of the babies from him to punish him for being such an insensitive clout.

Clay stroked the soft cheek of the baby he had left, not appearing punished at all. She nudged him sharply with her elbow. “Well?”

His eyes never moved. “Well, what?”

“Why haven’t you ever told me you love me?”

“Of course I love you.” Clay shook his head, still staring. “How could I not love someone as sweet and pretty as you? It’d only be news if I didn’t love you, I’d think.”

Sophie tried to remind herself of the lessons they’d learned about revenge, and the wildly fluctuating moods she was prone to after a baby was born. And she still almost throttled him. He was saved by the babies between them.

Sophie remembered how much he’d learned to talk in the last year and how completely he’d been surrounded by men all his life, and she decided to let him live. “It gives me a nice feeling inside to hear it said now and again.”

As if he didn’t know the danger he’d been in, Clay said, “Okay. How often?”

Sophie sighed deeply then decided this might be her only chance. “At least once a day is nice—at bedtime. And then throw it in out of the blue once in a while besides.”

Clay nodded, rocking the baby in his arms to quiet it. Sophie thought he was getting very good at being a pa already.

He said, “Once a day and then some. That’ll be fine.”

Sophie shook her head. “You’re hopeless.”

He didn’t appear to hear what she said. He was lucky she was a Christian woman—a Christian woman with her hands full. They sat together and watched their babies until the sun came up.

Then the girls came in and broke rule number one all over again.

Mary Connealy
is an author, journalist, and teacher. She is a graduate of Wayne State College with a degree in Mass Communication. She finds great joy in writing. Her hope is that her work is worthy of that God-given gift of joy.

She lives on a Nebraska farm with her husband, Ivan and has four mostly grown daughters, Joslyn, Wendy, Shelly (and her husband Aaron), and Katy.

If you hunt hard enough, you can find Mary on the Internet like a middle-aged, female “Where’s Waldo” at
www.myspace.com/petticoatranch
or
www.maryconnealy.com
. Mary is a GED Instructor by day and an author by night. And to keep it straight in her head whether she’s teaching or writing, she likes to wear a little crown and a Wonder Woman cape while she types.