A Hopeful Heart (17 page)

Tressa agreed that Sallie’s plan to share the chores sounded pleasing. She had enjoyed her week working with Sallie. “But you said you couldn’t take up with Cole because—”

“I know what I said, an’ it hasn’t changed. It isn’t to be. But . . .” Sallie sighed, her expression becoming wistful. “A girl can hope, can’t she? Sometimes all a person has to hold on to is hope.”

A snippet from Brother Connor’s sermon two Sundays ago drifted through Tressa’s mind. She frowned, trying to recall the exact wording, but it escaped her. Something about placing one’s hope in the Lord to discover renewed strength. She would ask Mrs. Wyatt about the reference when she visited with her about Sallie. “There’s nothing wrong with hoping things will work out between you and Cole.” And was there anything wrong with her hoping Abel Samms might set aside his aversion to her company? She pushed that fleeting thought aside.

“Then I’ll keep hopin’. An’ I’ll be hopin’ for ye to find favor with Ethan Rylin, for I’m certain he’d be willin’ to court ye if he thought you’d be interested. Maybe we could live in the bunkhouse with the two of them an’ old Mr. Rylin could move into the ranch house with Mr. Samms. There’s the two sleepin’ rooms, an’ Mr. Samms has the house all to himself.”

Tressa laughed at Sallie’s plan. “You have it all worked out, don’t you?”

“Oh, I’m a fine one for dreamin’, Tressa.” Sallie aimed her wistful gaze at the sky. “Hopin’ an’ dreamin’ . . . I been doin’ it for years. But only since I came here did I dare believe some of the dreams might come true.”

They topped the final rise that led to Mrs. Wyatt’s ranch, and the horses bobbed their heads, snorting in impatience when the ranch came into view. Tressa gave her horse its head and it lunged forward, breaking into a canter that forced her to clamp her knees against the saddle’s soft leather fenders and hold tight to the horn to avoid being bounced from the seat. The pounding of hooves behind her let her know Sallie’s horse was just as eager to reach the barn.

She and Sallie reined in outside the barn’s opening, and one of Mrs. Wyatt’s hired hands emerged from the structure. He tipped his hat back on his head. “Climb on down an’ head to the house. I’ll take care of the horses for you.”

Tressa swung down, but she held tight to the reins. “Thank you, sir, but it’s our job to see to the horses’ needs.”

Sallie kept her fist wrapped around her horse’s reins, too.

The man laughed, slapping his leg with his open hand. “An’ that’s just what Miz Wyatt told me you’d say. But she said for you to come on up to the house. Somethin’ she needs to discuss with you right quick. So go on now an’ let me care for the horses.”

Tressa sent Sallie a puzzled look, which Sallie returned. Reluctantly, they handed the reins to the waiting cowboy and turned toward the house. Sallie’s face seemed pale in the fading light. “Do ye suppose we’ve done somethin’ wrong?”

Tressa shrugged. “If we have, we’ll know soon enough.”

Sallie caught Tressa’s hand. “Let’s hurry. If it’s good news waitin’, I’ll want to be hearin’ it quick. An’ if it’s bad news waitin’, I’ll want to be gettin’ it over quick.”

Tressa couldn’t argue with Sallie’s logic. Catching her skirt with her free hand, she broke into a trot.

17

“I been thinkin’ . . .” Hattie let her gaze drift around the parlor and touch each girl in turn. “Even though I didn’t intend to host our courtin’ party until late August, you gals’ve made quicker progress than I expected. You all can be real proud o’ yourselves.” A lump formed in Hattie’s throat, making her voice come out gruff. She’d miss these girls when they went on to their new homes. “Truth is, I think you’re ready to start bein’ sparked by fellas.”

A variety of expressions danced on the girls’ faces—everything from elation to out-and-out fear. Hattie pressed on. “If we move the party up closer, then you’ll have more time to get acquainted with the single men o’ the community. My next group o’ students won’t be arrivin’ until after Christmas, which’ll give you a good five months to make your matches an’ plan your weddin’s.” Slapping her palms on her thighs, Hattie leaned back in the chair. “So, what do you gals have to say?”

Luella shrugged one shoulder. “It makes no difference to me.” She flashed a smirk. “My choice is already made, so I won’t even need to attend the courtin’ party.”

“We’ll
all
be attendin’ the party.” Hattie gave Luella a stern look. “There’ll be no matchin’ done without my consent. The agreement you signed before comin’ here clearly outlined how the matches are made, an’ I haven’t agreed to any just yet.”

Luella’s jaw dropped. “But
I’ve
made an agreement with—”

Hattie raised her brows, and Luella fell silent. That Luella was as headstrong as a mule and twice as ornery. She needed to have a firm chat with the girl, but she wouldn’t do any arguing in front of the others. “We can talk about it later. Right now we’re discussin’ the party.” Rubbing her palms together, she offered a smile. “I was thinkin’ maybe the Saturday after the fourth o’ July.”

Sallie’s green eyes flew wide. “Why, that’s less than two weeks away!”

“Think it’s too quick?” Hattie paused, giving the girls time to voice their thoughts. But they sat as quiet as scarecrows in a garden, so she filled the silence. “Folks’ll still be in a celebratin’ mood, an’ the watermelons’ll be ripe for pickin’. Seems like a fine time to host a party, if you gals are up to the work it’ll take to get all the food ready.”

Sallie, crowded between Tressa and Luella on the sofa, sat up straight. Her freckles fairly glowed. “I’m game.” She nudged Tressa with her elbow. “An’ what about ye, Tressa? Are ye ready to be courted?”

The teasing grin on Sallie’s face coupled with Tressa’s embarrassed flush made Hattie wonder what had transpired at the Lazy S over the past week. Could it be Abel had finally let down his guard and allowed his heart to open?

Tressa sent a nervous glance at Hattie and nibbled her lip before dropping her gaze. Clearly the idea of courting scared the bashful girl more than a mite. Hattie’s resolve wavered. She didn’t want these girls to think she was throwing them out of the nest before their feathers were developed enough to let them fly. “We can wait until August if you’d rather. Just means the courtin’ time’ll be shortened up. Still doable. It’s up to you girls.” A long silence followed.

Impatience stirred in Hattie’s breast. She gave the little marble-topped table next to her chair a smack. “Come on now, speak up! If you’re gonna be ranchers’ wives, you’re gonna have to be strong. Them men’ll run roughshod over ya if you don’t open your mouths an’ speak.” She pointed at Mabelle. “Now or later, missy?”

Mabelle gulped twice, glanced at Paralee, who sat with her eyes wide and her lips pinched up tighter than the strings on a miser’s purse, and then barked out one word: “Now.” She clamped both hands over her mouth and giggled hysterically behind her palms.

Hattie resisted rolling her eyes. “Paralee?”

Paralee’s cheeks twitched as if a bumblebee fought for release from her mouth. “I . . . I reckon now is . . . fine.” The last word came out on a strangled yelp.

“All right, now we’re gettin’ somewhere.” Hattie heaved a sigh. “Sallie, Mabelle, an’ Paralee are for doin’ the courtin’ party ahead o’ the original plan.” She glanced at Luella and decided not to ask her opinion. That gal would leap out of a window into a man’s arms if Hattie let her. She turned her attention to Tressa. “Tressa, what’re you thinkin’?”

Tressa’s face faded from rosy pink to white. “I shall bow to whatever decision you make, Mrs. Wyatt.”

Hattie frowned. That highbrow talk only came out when the girl was upset. “Now, Tressa, didn’t I just say ya gotta learn to speak your own mind? Just ’cause the others’ve agreed don’t mean you need to get swept along like a twig in a creek. If you have strong feelin’s in another direction, now’s the time to say so. This’s gonna be an all-or-nothin’ proposition. I don’t want nobody bein’ pushed into courtin’ until she’s ready.”

Every other girl seemed to suck in air and hold it. Hattie leaned her elbows on her knees and looked steadily into Tressa’s pale blue eyes. “You be honest with me now, missy. You ready to start courtin’ or would’ja rather wait? Nobody’ll hold it against you if you need more time.” She flashed a warning look around the room before settling her gaze on Tressa again. “No matter what, there’ll be courtin’, so nobody’ll lose out by waitin’. I want to do what’s best for
all
of you.”

Tressa glaced at Sallie. She pulled in her bottom lip for a moment. “If I’m to be completely truthful with you, Mrs. Wyatt, this past week proved quite enlightening. I do feel adequately prepared to take on the responsibilities of housekeeping. I am not as certain I’m ready to be a wife, in every s-sense of the word.”

The slight stutter combined with her high-falutin’ talk communicated the source of the girl’s misgivings. Hattie offered an assuring smile. “Now, missy, that part’ll come natural when you’ve found a fella that makes your heart go a-patterin’ in your chest. You’ll know when you’re bein’ courted by the right man.”

Tressa’s trembling smile offered a silent thank-you.

Hattie sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. Memories of her years with Jed—and these lonely ones without him—crowded her mind, bringing a rush of mingled joy and sadness. She opened her eyes, surprised to find the girls’ images wavering through a veil of tears. “Even before you gals came, I was prayin’ for each o’ you an’ the man who’d be claimin’ you. I’ve been askin’ God to pave the way for you to find good mates. Marriage is the most beautiful union in the world when it has God’s blessin’.”

She blinked, whisking away the moisture that clouded her vision. “Now that you all have the skills you need to see to a house an’ garden an’ livestock, all that’s left is findin’ a man—one who’ll cherish you, an’ who you can cherish in return.”

Mabelle’s chest heaved with a mighty sigh. “That’s bound to be harder than ropin’ a calf.”

Hattie snorted with laughter. “Oh, now, missy, nothin’s too hard for the good Lord in heaven. An’ He’s got the perfect husband all picked out for each o’ you. You just gotta listen to your heart an’ follow His lead. God always plans the best for His children.”

Tressa looked hard into Mrs. Wyatt’s sincere, honest face, and a longing the likes of which she’d never before experienced caught in her breastbone and held with an intensity that prevented her from drawing a breath. Her pulse raced, just as Mrs. Wyatt had indicated would happen when she met the right man to be her husband, yet no man was nearby. So what was the source of the strange ache in the center of her heart?

Mrs. Wyatt clapped her thick palms together and rose. “Well, girls, now that our decision’s been made, we got work to do. Cakes an’ pies to bake, an’ meat to smoke—I’m thinkin’ a brisket’ll make good party food. An’ maybe—”

“Aunt Hattie.” Luella bounced to her feet, her smile conniving. “Could we do something fun at the party? Each of us—” she gestured to the girls, her eyebrows rising superciliously when she looked across at Tressa—“make a dinner basket, and the men can bid for the pleasure of eating with us.”

“You mean a box social?” Mrs. Wyatt’s brows beetled together.

“That’s right.” Luella toyed with a curling strand of hair at her temple. “Don’t you think the men would enjoy a little competition?”

“But then they’d have to pay for their dinner.” Mabelle cast a worried look at Paralee. “I don’t know that any man would pay to eat with me.”

“Now, that’s a silly thing to say, Mabelle.” Mrs. Wyatt shook her index finger at Mabelle, then swung to face Luella. “An’ this isn’t supposed to be a money-makin’ party. It’s a get-acquainted social.”

“But what would be the harm?” Luella held her hands outward. “I think it would be great fun for each of us to stand in front of the crowd with a gaily decorated basket heaping with food and let the men battle for who gets the privilege of lunch with that girl.” Luella’s eyes gleamed.

“The harm would be bringin’ in money when this isn’t supposed to cost the men anything more than their time.” Mrs. Wyatt frowned. Although the woman was one of the most uncomplaining people Tressa had ever met, it appeared Mrs. Wyatt’s patience was nearly spent with Luella.

“Oh!” Mabelle jumped up, her hands clasped beneath her chin.

“Aunt Hattie, remember in church two Sundays ago when Brother Connor said the congregation needed money to fix the roof on the church building? He asked for a special offering.”

“Yes, I recall the request.” Mrs. Wyatt tapped her chin with her finger. “Are you thinkin’ we could turn the men’s biddin’ money over to the church for a new roof?”

“That’s perfect, Mabelle!” Luella flung her arm around Mabelle’s shoulders, and the shorter girl grinned with delight. “Don’t you think so, too, Aunt Hattie?”

Tressa’s head spun. Stand in front of the crowd with a basket in her arms and allow men to call out bids? Why, prairie or not, she could never be so brazen as to offer herself in such an unsophisticated manner. She opened her mouth to voice her protest, but Mrs. Wyatt cut in.

“I think it’s a fine idea to want to raise money for the church roof, but that standin’ up an’ auctionin’ off yourselves . . .” She shook her head. “I’m not keen on that.”

“Oh, but, Aunt Hattie—”

Mrs. Wyatt gave Luella a scowl that stilled her protest. “Now, if you want to decorate box lunches an’ have the men bid on the lunch without knowin’ who made it, that’s a different thing altogether. Then it’s kind of a luck-o’-the-draw sort of thing, an’ the men might find it amusin’.”

“But what if a man who holds no interest in us wins our basket?” Paralee wrung her hands, her brow wrinkled in concern.

“There’ll be opportunities to mingle with all the men. After all, the party’ll include dancin’—I’m sure Mr. Hammond’s cook will be willin’ to bring his fiddle an’ play some tunes—an’ we’ll plan some games an’ whatnot, too.”

Mrs. Wyatt’s response seemed to satisfy Paralee because the girl relaxed in her chair and shot a relieved look at Mabelle.

“Now, it’s late,” Mrs. Wyatt said sternly, “an’ as I’ve already said, we got lots o’ work to do—our regular chores plus preparin’ for this party. So all of you on up to bed. Scoot.” She shooed the girls toward the staircase.

Tressa, out of habit, fell to the rear of the group. As she stepped onto the first riser, she remembered her plan to discuss Sallie’s situation with Mrs. Wyatt. She spun around. “Mrs. Wyatt, may I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead, but make it quick. I’m about ready to topple, I’m so tired.” The older woman yawned noisily, then grinned. “This week’s plumb wore me out. I got so used to you girls doin’ all the work, I almost forgot how to take care o’ my own kitchen an’ garden!”

Tressa couldn’t imagine the busy, knowledgeable woman ever slowing down. “I wondered . . . which men from the community will be welcome at the party? Only ranch owners, or any single man interested in taking a wife?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed speculatively. “You got a certain young man weighin’ heavy on your thoughts?”

“Yes, ma’am. You see—”

“Well, missy, I plan on invitin’ everybody in Barnett an’ the surroundin’ area—families an’ single men from eighteen to eighty. They’re all welcome to come an’ spend time gettin’ to know you gals better, since it’s always good to know one’s neighbors, but only the men who’re able to provide for a wife will be allowed to do any courtin’.”

Tressa envisioned Sallie as she’d appeared earlier in the evening, her face bright with hope. Cole, although willing, surely didn’t meet Mrs. Wyatt’s stipulation of being able to provide for a wife. Tressa hung her head. “I see. . . .”

Mrs. Wyatt cupped Tressa’s chin, lifting her head. “My responsibility is to make sure you girls are well cared for. I brought you all the way out here. Can’t put you in a situation where you’ll be lackin’, or you’re no better off than you were in New York. You understand, don’t you, Tressa?”

Tressa swallowed hard. How her heart ached for Sallie and Cole. If only Cole had his own ranch. . . . “Yes, ma’am, I understand.”

The older woman smiled. “Good. But don’t you be worryin’. There’re plenty of good men with successful ranches who are more’n able to take care of a wife. So none o’ you will be left wantin’.”

Tressa nodded, but she couldn’t force her lips into a smile.

Mrs. Wyatt gave Tressa’s cheek a pat. “An’ remember, I’ve been prayin’. I’m trustin’ God to open the right man’s heart to each o’ you.”