Brides of Texas (22 page)

“The finest, and I thank you for sayin’ so.”

“Jenny, why don’t we wash up and go to the mercantile?”

“All right.” Jenny shoved her hands into the pocket of her apron. “I hope the fish are biting once you go fishing, Duncan.”

“Now there’s a grand thought.”

Carmen didn’t mention how she’d noticed Jenny’s hands remained fisted deep in the apron pockets. Was she truly excited to go on the walk, or was she just afraid to have to be out and meet people here in town?

They went inside, and Carmen went to the washstand. “It never fails to amaze me how filthy my hands become after just a few minutes in the garden.”

Jenny didn’t respond.

As she dried her hands on a scarlet towel embroidered with big, sunny yellow flowers, Carmen turned to her. “I like to sew. Do you?”

“For my grandmother, I used to sew all of the time. She was a dressmaker.”

Carmen smiled. “Wonderful. My friend Mercy—she’s the doctor’s wife—she recently had a baby. I remember her making special dresses during the time she was—” Carmen caught herself just before she said, “in the family way.” Jenny wasn’t going to keep the baby, so mentioning family would be cruel. Instead, Carmen simply said, “—increasing. I’m sure you’re going to need some roomier clothes, too. Maybe we could drop in on Mercy and ask her for advice before we buy fabric.”

“My other dress is bigger.” Jenny paused a second, then blurted out, “I don’t have much money. I had to run away from the saloon. Bart thought I was going to the doctor to get rid of the baby, so all I have is what he gave me to pay the doctor.”

“Jenny!”

Jenny hung her head. “I’m sorry. A nice lady like you shouldn’t rub elbows with—”

Carmen stopped her by wrapping Jenny in her arms. “I’m so proud of you. You’re a brave girl. You did the right thing.”

Jenny drew away and looked nonplussed.

“It must have been hard for you to get help and keep everything a secret.”

Jenny bit her lip and nodded.

“But here you are. And we have those three big, strong Gregor men across the street to protect you if that awful Bart finds out where you are.”

“Why would they want to protect me?” Just as quickly as she asked it, Jenny answered the question. “Because of the baby.”

“No. If you’d run away from a bad situation and weren’t with child, they’d still defend you. They’re noble men.” Carmen squeezed Jenny’s hand. “Mercy and I both enjoy sewing and doing embroidery. Won’t it be pleasant to sit together in a shady spot and stitch together?”

A stiff shrug tattled on Jenny’s reservations.

“Tacky as it might be for me to discuss money, you ought to know that on occasion someone chooses to be a secret benefactor to a woman in your situation. I know that’s true in your case. You’ll have an account at the mercantile, so it shouldn’t be a problem for you to purchase fabric and other necessities.”

“Someone would do that for me? A stranger? They didn’t know what kind of woman I am.”

“What that person knows is that you are a woman who is willing to give her child the wonderful gift of a family who will cherish him or her in ways you know you cannot.”

“Don’t you think whoever that is would want me to spend the money to make blankets and clothes and diapers for the baby?”

“Absolutely not!” Carmen released Jenny’s hand. “The couple who receives the baby will take care of those details. Why don’t you freshen up while I jot down a few things?”

While Jenny took a turn at the washstand, Carmen sat at the ornately carved oak secretary her mother once treasured. She didn’t have much time, so she dipped the pen in the inkwell and quickly wrote:

She hastily signed only her initials and glanced over at Jenny.

“I’m in no hurry. If you’d like to tame your hair, feel free.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Carmen took another sheet of paper and hastily started writing down anything she might vaguely need from the mercantile.

“That list must be getting long,” Jenny said as she patted one last strand of hair into place.

“I’ve been doing a lot of baking. One peek into my pantry and you’ll think we’re in danger of starving.” Carmen blotted the list and folded it to hide the note.

D
uncan yawned and stretched. He’d gone to bed late and gotten up early so he’d have today’s work done by breakfast. That freed him to take Carmen for a nice stroll. Women liked to walk and have a man pick flowers for them. Surely this would be a time she’d remember fondly. It would be a fine start of their courtship.

The thought of taking a picnic lunch along crossed his mind, but Duncan decided he’d use that as another outing. Aye, he’d plan a string of pleasant activities and idyllic afternoons, and he’d make a point to go over to her house more often to handle some minor repairs and do general upkeep.

Small gardening hand tools jostled merrily in the wheelbarrow as he wheeled it across the street. Duncan mentally traced the route they’d take again. He’d wandered the nearby fields to plot out a leisurely walk that wouldn’t tax Carmen. Though she didn’t complain, he knew her leg pained her—and she loathed having anyone notice that ridiculously paltry limp of hers. But because she’d be mortified to be unable to exert herself, Duncan circumvented the difficulty by planning everything in advance.

“Good morning!” Carmen stepped from her house. The morning sun glossed her raven-black hair and made Duncan wish he could yank out the pins and run his hands through her tresses to see how long they were.

“Yeah. Good morning.” Jenny stepped out of the house, too.

“Aye, ’tis. And it just got better, what with a pair of pretty ladies to go on a walk wi’ me.”

They sauntered down the street. Pride squared Duncan’s shoulders. With Carmen by his side, he felt ten feet tall. The moment they reached a fork in the road, he started to veer south.

“Have you ever seen such a sight?” Jenny stared in rapture at the field that went north.

“I don’t know what it is about flowers.” Carmen smiled. “I always think the one I’m looking at is the most beautiful ever.”

Jenny shaded her eyes with one hand and pointed into the distance. “Could we get some of those little blue ones?”

“What a wonderful idea. I’m always charmed by wind-blown.”

Duncan tilted his head to the side. “Aren’t all wildflowers windblown?”

“Most are,” Carmen allowed. “But that particular flower’s name is wind-blown. Jenny, I’ll show you more of them. It’s amazing, but wind-blown comes in a huge array of colors. If you keep watch, you soon see them in everything from a pale blue to a bright pink.”

To Duncan’s consternation, the women headed north toward the wind-blown. He wanted to snatch Carmen back to his side. He told himself it was simply because he wanted her to take the easier route he’d planned. He promptly called himself a liar. He didn’t want her away from his side—and that was the truth of the matter.

“You mentioned whistly blue the other day,” he said to Carmen. “I’ve found several stretches of it, but I’d rather hae them be among the beauty we gather after we gain a collection of taller varieties.”

Carmen smiled. “That’s good planning.”

“I was wondering”—Jenny scanned the field—“can we fill the wheelbarrow today and put the flowers in the garden tomorrow?”

“ ’Tis up to you, Carmen.”

Carmen shook her head. “It’s too dry and warm today to do that. We’d run the risk of losing them. It would be a shame to pluck up a flower, only to make it so it won’t survive.”

Jenny made a wry face.

“You’re unhappy with my decision?” Carmen gave Jenny a surprised look.

“The only thing I’ve ever seen dry out in a wheelbarrow is a man. At the saloon, they’d dump a drunk into the wheelbarrow and push it over by the ditch.”

Carmen’s eyes widened.

“Oh, they did that so when he woke up and puked, no one would have to clean up the mess.”

“They treated a man like that?” Carmen’s voice sounded both sad and outraged.

Jenny shrugged. “A real man can hold his liquor.”

“A real man doesna need liquor a-tall,” Duncan said. “But any man who’s weak enough to drink to that kind of excess still deserves better than to be treated like refuse.”

Jenny’s mouth twisted wryly. “Neither of you have ever had to mop up after a drunken fool.”

“I far prefer having flowers in your wheelbarrow, Duncan.”

Duncan flashed Carmen a smile. She’d bent the conversation away from Jenny’s unfortunate past and back to something pleasant. Admiration for her diplomacy filled him. He nodded. “Flowers and ladies on a beautiful day are definitely to my taste.” He managed to steer them all back toward the route he’d chosen.

At one point, an almost two-foot-wide crack in the ground broke the path. Duncan knew it was there, and he’d intentionally led them toward the rift. It provided an excuse for him to cup Carmen’s waist and lift her.

“You ladies wait a moment whilst I get the wheelbarrow over there. If the edges here take a mind to crumble, I’d rather it not be under your feet.” Proud of that excuse, Duncan made short work of hefting the flower-filled wheelbarrow over to the other side. Straddling the divide, he reached for Jenny first. That way, Carmen wouldn’t feel as if he was making allowances for the insignificant problem she strove so hard to deny.

“You’re so strong!” Jenny cooed at him as he swung the big-boned lass over the divide.

“Compared to the things he hauled when they built their house, you weigh nothing at all.” Carmen smiled as she vouched so casually for his strength.

Her praise meant a lot to him, but the fact that she’d been watching him gave Duncan a glimmer of hope. Maybe the attraction was mutual after all. “I’m ready for you now, Carmen.”
And not just to lift you across this
. He slowly cupped her waist and made sure he had a secure hold.

Unlike Jenny, who’d rested her hands on his shoulders, Carmen carefully rested her hands on his upper arms. The shyness in her beautiful brown eyes beguiled him. She was normally confident and saucy, so he’d not seen this side of her.
Give me time, lass. I’ll show you just how lovely you are and that you can entrust yourself to me entirely
.

“Is something wrong?” Embarrassment colored her whisper.

“Not a bit.” Duncan grinned. “I was appreciating your perfume. It’s a tad spicy—like you.”

“I like it,” Jenny said.

“Aye, as do I.” Duncan lifted Carmen. He would be content to stay there the whole day, holding her and inhaling her scent. Instead, he set her down by Jenny and waited a second to be sure she was steady before releasing his hold.

By the time Duncan returned to his workshop that afternoon, he couldn’t stop grinning like a fool. Aye, he’d set his heart on that black-haired, brown-eyed woman, and courting her was going to be pure delight.

“Holes?” Carmen glanced at her windows in consternation. “I didn’t notice any.”

“Aye, a close look at the screens will tell you I’m right.” Duncan clomped across her veranda and pointed at a few spots. “They’re wee small holes yet, but that’s when we need to catch the problem. If they get any larger, you’ll be plagued with flies in the house.”

“Thank you for pointing that out. I think I have a scrap of screening material somewhere.”

“A scrap willna do.”

Carmen gave him a patient look. “I can sew little patches if the holes are tiny.”

“That brings to mind the verse about not putting new wine in old wineskins.”

Carmen noticed Jenny’s perplexed expression and made a mental note to explain the biblical verse to her later. “Wineskins are different. A more accurate analogy would be resoling a pair of boots.” Pleased that she’d countered his assertion with something Duncan would relate to so well, Carmen gave him a smile.

Duncan’s brows rose. “I’d not recommend resoling boots that dinna have enough life left in them to make it worthwhile.”

“How old are your screens?” Jenny poked her finger at the screen door. It went straight through and left a jagged little tear. “Oh, I’m sorry!”

“There you have it.” Duncan nodded. “They’re all wanting replacement.”

Otto was busy on the farm. Carmen knew he couldn’t afford the time to accomplish the job. “I’ll decide which ones are the worst and ask Otto to do one a week.”

“Ooch, lass. And why would you be doing that when I’m willin’ to get the job done now?”

“You’re a busy man, Duncan.”

“Not too busy to help out a neighbor. I’ll do your screen door first, here on your porch, so you’ll still be able to catch a breeze for the rest of the day. Elsewise, your house will be miserable as the inside of an oven.”

“You’ve already done so much, Duncan. You turned the soil for our garden and helped us get the flowers.”

“Dinna forget that I helped myself to some worms to bait my hook and caught several fish. Aye, and I had the joy of your fine company for a stroll the day we gathered flowers.”

“You shared the fish,” Jenny pointed out.