An Unexpected Love (The Colorado Brides Series Book 5) (4 page)

“Not really. I’m just horrible with wagons. I attract ruts.”

“Women drivers.” His smile was infectious.

“That’s just rich. I know you want to make fun of me.”

“How many times have you done that now? Five? Someone needs to follow you around to rescue you.”

“It’s the first
little
accident I’ve had in a year. It’s hardly even worth mentioning.”

He sighed. “I’d like to meet this fellow. He seems to have made an impression on you.”

“Not at all. I was just dismayed at the way he was treated. No one should have bottles thrown at them.”

“People are wary of Indians, my dear. It’s no secret. We all saw the bodies of that family last year.”

“The Hungate family.” They had been brought to town, and everyone had seen what had happened to them. “I wish I hadn’t been there.”

“If we had any idea they would’ve been on display like that, we would have avoided Denver City for a week. It was rather gruesome.”

“Let’s not think about it anymore.”

“The atrocities are two-sided, Jane,” he murmured passionately. “We’re hardly blameless. No one wants to talk about our part in the mess, but they have no qualms showing off the handiwork of the Indians. My fear is that they’ll use these murders as an excuse to wage war on these people. That’ll only make things worse.”

“Then you’ll have plenty to preach about.”

“Yes, there’s never a shortage of material, especially now. With the war over, times are rough for so many. Gold has run out in a lot of places and then the fire and floods. It’s been difficult for everyone.”

“But we won’t leave, will we?” I hated the thought of moving, as I had finally accepted this place as my home.

“No, Jane.” He smiled kindly. “We’ll remain in Denver City.”

“I hope Wesley wants to stay. I’d like to be near my family.”

“You didn’t always feel that way about us.”

Did he have to remind me? “I didn’t, but you’ve grown on me.”

“You’ve shown a great deal of resiliency, my dear. I’m proud to call you my daughter.”

“Bosh! I’m too old to be your daughter.” I sat straighter, daring him to challenge me.

“True, but then how do I classify you?”

“Houseguest is too impersonal. How about…oh, I don’t know.”

“Distant family? No. Just family. We needn’t even try to classify it.”

What was worse was that I had fancied him years ago, thinking he was handsome and sweet, which he still was. But, Fanny had won him over, and I never stood a chance. “So you’ll think of something to say tomorrow? People should try to be kinder, although I know some will never change their ways.”

“I’ll ponder it. It’s a timely matter to discuss, especially if this Ryan Hartsock person plans on staying in the area. In time, people will come to know him as a friend and not a foe.”

“But the drunken idiots at the saloon won’t see it that way.” I was mildly surprised by the fervor in my voice.

His gaze sharpened. “You have taken quite an interest in him. He’s made an impression on you.”

“Not really. People should remember to be kind. That’s all.”

“I see.”

“If you saw someone being treated poorly, you’d be appalled too, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course, Jane.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling quite satisfied with how the conversation had concluded. Yet, Jack continued to grin, his expression betraying amusement. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Looking like that.”

“Like what?”

“Ouf!” I got to my feet. “You’re having a laugh at my expense.” I had forgotten to see about lunch. “I’ve things to do.”

“It’s been wonderful having this talk.”

I harrumphed, while he chuckled, which grated on my nerves. We would banter back and forth for the rest of the day, with Jack saying frequently, “Ryan Hartsock is Jane’s new hobby.”

Goodness, he was annoying.

Chapter Four

By Monday, I was ready to start work at Hannah’s. As I trundled down the road towards the Weaver farm, I was awed by the sheer size of the property. Fields of wheat and corn stretched out on either side of the lane. Workers were in the fields now, some on horseback. I recognized Ryan sitting on top of his stallion.

I approached the residence, which stood across from a small bunkhouse. Stepping down from the wagon, I neared Sally Anne, releasing her from the harness. I’d leave her in the paddock to graze. I assumed Hannah was in the house with Letty and Charlie.

“Hello,” I said, as I went in.

“I thought that was you.”

“I’m all yours.” I took an apron off a hook on the wall in the kitchen. “What can I do to help?”

“I’ve bread to make and lunch to prepare. I managed to get breakfast done, but the dishes were awful. We’ve four workers now, including Nathan. They’ll be hungry for lunch. Then someone has to mind Charlie.”

“He seems fine now.” He sat in a chair, playing with his food, which were sliced carrots. Letty sat next to him with a book open, but her attention was on me. “Good morning.”

“Mornin’, Jane. I’m learning to read.”

“That’s wonderful, honey. We’ll have story time later too. I brought books.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, I can’t wait, Miss Jane.”

“I’ve got a simple recipe for the bread,” said Hannah. She left a worn-looking cookbook on the table. “If you could get it started, I’d be much obliged.”

I reached for a ceramic bowl. “I need eggs and water.”

“And a sturdy arm. You’ll be kneading for a while.”

“How many loaves am I making?”

“Four.”

“Oh, my word.”

It wasn’t long before dough rose in four separate bowls, with towels draped over them. The kitchen smelled of yeast. Hannah had made a hearty pork casserole, and, after the bread had baked, lunch would be ready. We’d taken the children outside to do laundry, the chore being my least favorite. There were pants and dresses to be scrubbed over the washboard and rinsed. The items then went through a wringer to extract the excess moisture. These were hung on the line to dry.

By lunch, I was in need of rest, but it would have to wait. With Charlie on one hip and my hands full of dishes, I began to set the table for the workers. They were due in from the fields at any moment.

“Once the dishes are done, we can put the children down for naps,” said Hannah. “Then it’s our turn for some quiet. I’m dying for a cup of tea.”

“Maria is a godsend.”

“Oh, gracious, yes! That woman can manage the work of ten people. I miss her dearly when she’s gone.” She smiled kindly. “It’s easier on days when there’s no laundry. I don’t always work so hard.”

“I understand.” I gazed around the room. “Maybe I’ll have my own farm one of these days.” Charlie squirmed in my arms, and I set him down. “Or I’ll go back east.”

This statement had surprised her. “Why would you do that?”

“I’ve uncles and cousins who might take me in. I could continue my education. I sometimes miss the diversions of civilization.”

“Oh, so do I.” She smiled wistfully. “Ice cream and walks in the park and carriage rides. But there’s a beauty here that could never be matched elsewhere. We create our paradise wherever we are. Then it’s not so much the place, as the people who inhabit it. I could never leave Denver City now, especially since Nathan is here…and all my family.”

I lived with the Weavers for a while before Fanny married Jack. I remembered the sweetness of the connection Hannah and Nathan shared, and their affection had not dimmed over time. I’d been envious of their love, just as I had envied Fanny and Jack. I had once fancied Jack myself, finding him entirely appealing, but I had been too young. It was painful to witness firsthand how he had fallen in love with Fanny. Whenever he was in the same room with her, he always managed to touch her in some way, either on the arm or shoulder. I craved to know such affection, realizing that Wesley had seldom touched me, and then only to shake my hand.

Voices were in the backyard. “Here they come!” Hannah reached for Charlie. “Come here, darling. I’ll let him play in the other room so we can eat. You should put out the lemonade.”

Before entering the kitchen, the men washed outside, scraping the bottoms of their boots on the steps. They were rough-looking, smelly, and hungry. Mr. Hartsock removed his hat, his dark, gleaming hair falling to his shoulders.

Nathan grinned, exclaiming, “It sure smells nice.”

“Please sit,” said Hannah. “There’s a casserole. Help yourselves. There should be plenty.”

I poured lemonade into glasses, feeling the weight of manly attention. There wasn’t a wedding band on my ring finger, and this absence was duly noted.

“Thank you kindly,” said one of the men, reaching for a slice of bread. “It sure looks good.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Weaver,” said another. “I anticipate your lunches, ma’am.”

“You’re welcome.” She glanced my way. “You should take a seat, Jane. We can rest for a moment. Charlie’s with Letty.”

Nathan bowed his head. “Lord, thank you for this meal we’re about to receive. Your blessings are much appreciated. And thank you for sending me a wife who knows how to cook so well. Amen.” He grinned at Hannah.

Hannah reached for the butter. “I’ve burned my fair share of dinners, my dear. I’m hardly perfect.”

“Yes, but it was still good.”

“My wife regularly burns our dinners,” said the man to my left. “Food is food. I ain’t gonna complain. Just scrape it off and eat it.” He popped a piece of bread into his mouth.

As I ladled out a spoonful of casserole, I sensed eyes on me. Lifting my head, I met Ryan’s stare. He was the only one who hadn’t begun to eat yet. Slightly bewildered and self-conscious, I brought the fork to my mouth, although it seemed as if every bite stuck in my throat.

“Is there any coffee?” asked the older of the men. “A cup would sure go down nicely.”

Hannah got to her feet. “I’ll put a pot on.”

“Thank you kindly, Mrs. Weaver.”

Nathan glanced at me. “I’m a numbskull. I’ve forgotten my manners. This is Jane Hampton, fellas. She’s gonna be helping Hannah this week while Maria’s gone. Jane, this is John Write, Dudley Hamlin, Wilber Booth, and Ryan Hartsock.”

They murmured greetings, although Ryan was silent. He’d not spoken a single word, and, by the time they had finished eating, the men left their plates in the sink, filing out of the room. Hannah and Nathan were in the parlor checking on the children, while I cleared the table.

“Thank you for lunch, Jane.”

I turned to find Mr. Hartsock behind me. I thought he’d gone, but I had been mistaken. “You’re welcome, sir.”

I thought he would say something else, but he stared bewilderingly, exactly as he had during the meal, which was more than unnerving. Those large, dark eyes were unreadable, but something had captured his attention, and I worried that perhaps there might be flour on my face or dough in my hair.

“Oh, bother,” murmured Hannah, who had returned. “We need to get Charlie down for a nap soon. He’s so fussy.”

Ryan snatched his hat off the back of the chair, placing it on his head. “Good afternoon, ladies.”

“Good afternoon, Ryan.” Hannah seemed amused for a moment, her eyes darting between us. After he had left, she quipped, “Someone sure has taken an interest in you.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” I reached for the bucket. “I’m going to get water.”

“He’s smitten.”

That was utterly ridiculous. “No, he’s not. With me?”

“I do believe so, unless there was a ghost standing behind you.”

“He was only…being polite.”

“Ha! I think he’s sweet on you. He didn’t say one word during lunch. He was too busy staring at you.”

“Oh, stop that.” As I went to the door, I couldn’t help wondering if what she had said were true, but none of it mattered in the end, as I was already spoken for. My beau was in the mountains for a spell, and, when he returned, he would ask for my hand.

Charlie’s nap was lengthy enough to allow Hannah and I a bit of a respite, chatting while drinking tea for an hour, and then dinner preparations needed to be attended to. Before I left to retrieve my siblings from town, I folded the laundry on the line, glancing into the field often to observe the men digging trenches, which I assumed were for irrigation purposes.

“I’m off,” I said, approaching Hannah, who stood on the front porch.

“That was fast.” She hugged me, while Charlie ran after a chicken. “I don’t think he’ll catch it.”

“Did it get loose?”

“Yes,” she laughed. “Now we’ll spend the rest of the day going after the darn thing. But it’s wonderful exercise for him. He’ll be plum tuckered out by supper.” The little boy stumbled after the animal, shrieking with happiness, but the bird was faster, easily escaping his clutches.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Enjoy the ride. It’s beautiful.” She scanned the horizon. “We really could use some rain, though.”

The horse was already yoked to the wagon, which Nathan had been kind enough to attend to. I grasped the reins. “Bye, Charlie!”

Letty had come out to the porch. “You can’t leave yet! We didn’t have story time.”

“I’m sorry, pumpkin. We’ll do it tomorrow, I promise.”

Her lower lip protruded. “Oh, fine.”

“Go on, Sally Anne,” I called to the horse. “Go, girl.” I waved to Hannah, glancing over my shoulder, as she stood in the yard with her children. Today had been productive, but there would be more work tomorrow. It never ended.

Later that day, while Mary and Susanna helped make dinner, I had some time alone. Finding solitude in the bedchamber, I sat in the corner and read poetry, John Keats being one of my favorites. I adored “Bright Star”, and I couldn’t help wondering whom he had written it for. His wild romanticism appealed to me at the moment, as I yearned for the feelings it evoked. But my solitude didn’t last long, as I had to put the book away, having been called to dinner.

In the morning, the house was alive with a chorus of noises, the sound of feet stomping and boyish laughter. After I had shepherded my siblings outside and into the wagon, Fanny appeared to bid us farewell. She held Thomas in her arms.

“How I wish you could stay.”