Amethyst (39 page)

Mrs. Grant turned to Pearl. “You’re sure this is not putting you out any?”

“I think it is a wonderful idea. Some of the families might not come because of haying, but I know you’ll enjoy the ones who make it. If I know the men around here, they’ll hay all morning and join us in the late afternoon.”

“I’ll tell Rand to bring his guitar.” McHenry turned to Mrs. Grant. “You ever danced under the stars with the good earth as the floor and sister moon lighting your steps?”

“No, I can’t say that I have, but I’m always ready for a new adventure.”

Amethyst smiled to herself. Leave it to Mrs. Grant. But inside she shut the lid on a thought too ugly to admit.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

“A party! We’re going to have a party,” Ada Mae sang as she jumped on the load of hay.

“Fishing! We’re going fishing.” Joel bounced extra hard.

“Dancing. There’ll be dancing.” Emily closed her eyes and almost slipped off the edge of the hay load.

“Watch it up there,” Beans warned as he forked up a load of hay.

Opal grinned at the antics of the younger ones. There hadn’t been any parties since just after Christmas and right before the blizzards started in earnest. And McHenry had said there would be dancing. She looked across the field to where Jacob was working on the mower by the barn. What would it be like to dance with him again?

“Opal, quit daydreaming and keep them horses movin.” Beans’ shout brought her back with a start. She flapped the reins and turned at a shriek from Emily.

“Snake.”

Opal started back, but Joel beat her to it and flipped the critter off the load. Snakes and mice hid under the rows of hay and sometimes got tossed up on the load. “Was it a rattler?”

“Don’t know.” Joel kept on trudging, now using a carved wooden pitchfork to distribute the load. “But it’s gone now.”

Opal shook her head. Last summer he’d been one scared little boy, and this year, what a difference. Now he teased Ada Mae, while she gave as good as she got. It reminded Opal of the Brandons, which made her sad. They’d received a letter the day before stating that none of the Brandons would be able to come this year. They had decided to take the entire family to Europe instead. Bernie had written a note saying he would rather come to the ranch, but they didn’t let him choose.

With the hayrack loaded, Opal drove the team up to the stack where she could admire Jacob’s new invention. Since the Robertsons didn’t have a haymow in their barn, he had rigged ropes along the floor from the rack in front of the wagon. At the appointed place for the stack, they attached the ends of the ropes to a doubletree harnessed to another team. The team started forward, and the load of hay was pulled off the hay wagon and made a stack of its own. They’d pitch hay from the other wagon to build the stack higher, but this saved time and the arms of those pitching the hay. As Rand had said, Jacob was the most inventive man around.

The ride-on plow that McHenry ordered had arrived the day before. If only they’d had that in the spring when they were breaking the sod on the field to sow the grain.

When the dinner bell clanged at noon, Opal gladly unharnessed the team and followed the others to the wash bench. Tomorrow they would work in the morning and go downriver in the afternoon. There hadn’t been time for play since haying started, for all the men were desperate to cut enough to keep their animals alive if they had another winter like the last one.

Ruby was already frying chicken to take for tomorrow’s supper.

“As soon as I’m done with this, I’m going hunting,” Opal said. “Fried grouse is good as fried chicken any day.”

“What’d you say?” Rand gave her a nudge in the side.

“I need to bag some grouse for the party.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me.” Rand shook his head. “I was hoping to get a deer, but the only one I saw was a doe with two fawns, so I gave that idea up. Game is scarce.”

“The birds have come back. Grouse on a spit over the fire would be good. Mrs. Grant has probably never had that.”

“Opal Torvald, I am so glad to hear that tone in your voice again that I could—” Rand cut off his sentence as his voice roughened.

Opal looked up to see—was that the sheen of tears in his eyes? Her nose clogged instantly. How come she could cry at a mouse squeak? The cloud was gone, but now the tears were like spring rain, watering the earth to bring up the grass and flowers. No longer hail and fog.

“Different, huh?”

“I’d say so. I’m thanking God every day for this.” He laid his hands on her shoulders. “You scared us.”

“You? It scared me.” She paused, glanced around to see that the others had all gone into the house to eat. “Rand, how could you ignore all the cattle dying? You acted like it wasn’t important, like…oh well.” She shrugged, indicating how she saw him responding.

“I didn’t ignore it. It near to tore me apart inside. Seemed I was screaming to the Lord the whole time.” He tipped her chin up with a loving finger. “But, Opal darlin’, I believe with everything that I am that God is in charge, and He knows what He is doing. Remember when Jacob preached about how much God loves us?”

She nodded.

“Well, I believe that. I know He can restore all our losses. Go read Deuteronomy 30. Powerful promises there. I read that over and over during the winter. The darker things get, the more I have to depend on His Word.”

Opal sniffed and rolled her eyes, still feeling the moisture gather. “Thanks for telling me.”

“You’re most welcome.” He put an arm around her waist as she did his, and the two walked side by side to the house.

Another lesson, huh, God? And I flunked
. She looked at Rand.
But I’m learning
.

That night she read Deuteronomy 30 as he’d suggested. And reread it. All were promises to Israel, and if she understood what Rand had said, all were promises for them too.
“The Lord, thy God shall bless thee…” I must love the Lord my God with all my heart and keep His commandments…that I may live. Lord, I do want to live again. I want to be like Rand
. The phrase “the Lord, thy God” beat over and over in her brain.

Everyone stopped work at noon on Saturday, ate, and headed for the river. Wagon after wagon pulled up, the drivers unharnessing their horses and hobbling or long-lining them in the rich grass. The children scattered to gather wood. Opal, Joel, and Ada Mae took their corks out of their pockets, cut willow sticks, tied the string to them, and caught enough grasshoppers in a handkerchief to start fishing.

“First fish gets a prize,” Opal sang out as she tossed her cork and baited hook out into the eddy.

“Ouch.” Ada Mae sucked on her finger.

“You’re supposed to stick the hook in the grasshopper, not your hand.” Joel gave a jerk on his line, and his hook came up empty. “Would you look at that.” He shook his head at Opal’s laugh and baited his hook again.

Opal caught herself looking around for Linc and Little Squirrel. They should be jerking fish right out of the water with Linc’s teasing, his warm laughter inviting them all to laugh. She sighed. So much gone.

Some time later they trooped back to the party, all of them hauling lines of fish. The men had two fires going, one with the coals low and three racks of grouse sizzling away. Obviously Opal hadn’t been the only one hunting in the twilight.

“We caught them. Who’s cleaning them?” Opal, Joel, and Ada Mae held their strings up.

“We’ll clean,” Cora Robertson called, sharpening a narrowbladed knife on a whetstone. “Just lay them on that log.”

Opal looked around. Jacob hadn’t arrived yet. He wasn’t still mowing, was he? She turned at the sound of horses’ hooves. Mr. McHenry rode beside a woman riding sidesaddle, her dark green skirt swooping down over her stirrup. But instead of a fancy hat or bowler like Opal had seen in New York, she wore someone’s flat felt hat that shaded her face. That must be Mrs. Grant, Miss O’Shaunasy’s friend from Chicago. If it hadn’t been for her white hair when she tipped her hat back, one would have thought her a young woman.

“Everyone, I want you to meet Mrs. Grant. She stopped her trip back to Chicago to visit us here in Medora. This party is in her honor, and it is nothing short of a miracle that all of you left off haying to join us. I suggest that Rand over there bring out his guitar, and I’ve got my trusty mouth organ, so let the dancing begin.” McHenry dismounted and assisted the woman down from her horse.

“To think I went riding in the badlands.” Mrs. Grant reached up and patted his cheek, then took his arm. “I want to meet all of my dear Amethyst’s friends.” She reached out and slid her arm through Amethyst’s. “Let us begin.”

Opal watched as they made their way from group to group.

“You going swimming?” Joel asked.

Opal shook her head. Ever since last summer and her encounter with the drifter, she’d not gone swimming. “You all go ahead. I need to find out what happened to your pa.”

“He said he’d be late.”

“Why?”

Joel shrugged. “Don’t know. See ya.”

“Opa?”

Opal stooped down and grabbed Per in both arms. “Did you go into the water?”

“Wet.”

“You sure are. And you smell like the river.”

“Go mo.”

Opal looked around to find Ruby. She was sitting in the shade of a cottonwood visiting with several of the women and Mrs. Grant. “Who was watching you?”

Per looked around as if searching for someone. “Pa.”

Was Rand supposed to be watching his son and got involved in talking with the men and forgot? Opal swung Per up on her shoulders and went to find out. “Ugh. You’re dripping down my back.”

He clamped one fist into her hair and waved his other arm.

“Per, sit still.”

“Per!” Rand’s voice rang across the clearing.

“He’s over here.” Opal waved her arm so he could see her. Per had gotten away from him. At one time or another, Per managed to get away from most everyone, which was why the porches at the ranch had sturdy gates.

Rand whooshed out a breath. “Scared me outta a month of Sundays.” He reached for his son. “I swear I’m going to tie a rope around your middle and the other end around my wrist.”

“I’ll take him. Did you know he’d been in the water?”

“Yes, I was with him. We started back, I got to talking with Charlie, and when I looked down, Per was gone. Thank the good Lord he went hunting for you.”

“You going to start the music pretty soon?”

“Right away.”

“Think I’ll go change into a skirt, then.” Somehow dancing in britches just didn’t seem appropriate. She left Per with his mother, fetched her skirt out of the wagon, and headed for some brush to hide behind to change. When she emerged, she saw Jacob riding into camp.

Instantly the sun seemed brighter and the birdsong sweeter. The breeze tickled the wisps of hair that refused to stay in her braid and curved around her cheek instead. As if drawn by a fine thread, his gaze found hers and a smile sketched commas around his mouth. Opal rolled her britches up and stuffed them in the corner of the wagon while Rand lifted his guitar from under the seat.

“Ready to dance?”

“Do ducks swim?”

“That’s my girl.” They headed for the flat area where people were gathering.

Rand plucked the strings, tuning his guitar, and McHenry blew a few notes on his harmonica. Opal turned at the sound of someone else tuning strings.

Jacob stood frowning at the fiddle in his hands, sawing one note after another and tightening the pegs. When he glanced up, he grinned at her.

“I didn’t know you played the fiddle.”

“Had to do something through all those blizzards. Mrs. Robertson had this, and I’d played some years ago. Had a good time practicing.”

“And no one told me.”

“Made them promise not to. Just in case I couldn’t manage it.” He put the fiddle to his shoulder and bowed across all the strings. “There, we all match.”

But now I can’t dance with you
. The thought made her nibble her bottom lip.
Stop it, you ninny. He can take a break like Rand does to dance with Ruby. Besides, there are plenty of men here. And since when do you like to dance that much anyway?