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Authors: Caryl McAdoo

BOOK: Daughters of the Heart
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Without even acting like he noticed the two youngest Buckmeyer sisters, Elijah took a seat out of earshot of the gang of men Henry had put in his charge. According to Jethro Risen, bosses didn’t fraternize with the hired help.

And if the workers’ conversation continued along the same lines, he wasn’t much interested in socializing with them anyway.

His true interest hurried toward him carrying a basket he hoped she’d filled with some more of Miss Jewel’s cooking. Breakfast wore off hours ago.

Still, if she only brought butter sandwiches, that’d be fine by him. He’d skip the meal all together to have the pleasure of her company. He took a breath and held it.

The girl smiled bigger the closer she got. He tried not to stare, glanced at the little sister, but his eyes hurried back to the beauty, couldn’t get enough of that smile.

Though he wouldn’t have believed it possible, the young lady was even more beautiful than Mary. He was sure of it. And she obviously had a hankering for his company, too.

“Hey, Elijah, where’s Daddy? I brought you and him some dinner.”

“That was sweet of you, CeCe.” He nodded toward the younger girl. “Hi, Bonnie Belle. Thank you, too.”

“My name is not Belle. My name is Bonnie Claire. My sister’s name is Belle, Gwendolyn Belle.”

He stared at the beauty, couldn’t help it.

“And her middle name’s –”

“Bonnie Claire, hush up. Mister Eversole doesn’t care about our middle names.” She softened her furrowed eyebrows before facing him again. “So where’s Daddy?”

“He went home mid-morning. You didn’t pass him on the way?”

“I didn’t see him. Was he riding that black stallion of his?”

“Yes, I brought the wagon. He rode.”

“That explains it. We came the long way around, over the bridge.”

“Since you brought extra, why don’t you two join me? I’d be pleased for the company. There’d surely be enough. Put together, you young ladies can’t eat as much as your father.”

“Oh, CeCe, c –”

“Bonnie.”

The little girl huffed and glared at her big sister. “Well, we’ve really got to get. I’s planning on –”

“Don’t be rude, Bonnie. Mind your manners. We can certainly keep Mister Eversole company if it pleases him.”

“But –”

CeCe cut off her sister with a rather loud, “We’d love to. Wouldn’t we, Bonnie?”

The little one wrinkled her nose and puckered her lips. “Well, sure. Why not? We’re in trouble already anyway.” She straightened her face back to normal and turned toward him. “Hey, Elijah, you married?”

“Bonnie Claire!”

Her face wrinkled again, every part of it. “Don’t be using both my names! You’re not Rebecca or my mother!” She turned and stomped off in a huff but kept on talking. “Been in a tither all morning wanting to know if he was or if he wasn’t! I was only trying to earn my money.”

Elijah laughed, played as though he hadn’t heard. If things didn’t work out with either of the older Buckmeyer girls. He’d have to wait on that one.

“No, I’m not married. Never have been.” She kept walking back toward the surrey. “Don’t even have a female friend waiting for me in California.”

The offended young lady never even looked back.

“I…I’m sorry. You’ll have to forgive my sister. She’s such a brat sometimes.”

With the little one safely out of earshot, he turned to CeCe. “No offense taken. I understand the asking.” The beauty’s face reminded him of when Moses worked on the roof of the orphanage all day and burnt red as a lobster.

Poor girl. He softened his voice. “And yes, I’m a believer in Jesus Christ and have followed him in baptism.”

Though Bonnie looked away, he could still see her pouting lips and turned back. His smile almost hurt his face. Gracious, he needed to get a grip. She’d think him a raving idiot.

“Good to know you’re a believer.” Cecelia grinned. “What brought that on?”

“Just trying to save your father some time. He quizzed me real hard, also told me you were too young to be courted.”

“He didn’t!” Her mirth disappeared. “He did?”

Elijah nodded. “Afraid so.”

 

 

Chapter Four

 

 

Cecelia glanced at Bonnie then back
to Mister Eversole.

“Daddy blamed himself for Mary Rachel running off. So he came up with his stupid rule about being eighteen.” She spread her lips into the smile she’d been practicing, the one that hopefully said, ‘I’m worth the waiting if you only will.’

Elijah nodded, but didn’t return the smile. Instead, he looked past her to little Miss Pouty Face. “Excuse me a moment, CeCe.” He hurried past her, stood next to Bonnie, and said something Cecelia couldn’t hear.

Returning with his arm around her little sister’s shoulder, Bonnie Claire beamed as though he’d just promised his eternal love.

Oh Lord, what was the matter with the man?

“Let’s eat. The boys said they only take half an hour for dinner.”

The man inhaled two cold biscuits, more than half of the even colder roast beef slab, six tomatoes slices, and a big piece of cold pie. All washed down with half the jar of mustang grape juice, but none of it as chilly as Cecelia’s heart.

Why had he looked at her the way he did yesterday then act like making Bonnie happy was the most important thing?

Didn’t he realize she’d paid her little sister to chaperone? Men! Would she ever understand them?

He extended the juice jar, and she took it. Her fingers brushed his and a warmth spread from his touch to her heart. He grinned. “I sure appreciate you coming, CeCe.”

“You’re welcome, my pleasure.” Had she remembered to smile? What should she say? Most of all she wanted to ask him what he’d told Bonnie, but that wouldn’t do. “I really prefer Cecelia. I love the way the L I A rolls off a person’s tongue.” Had she said that aloud? Oh, no.

Have mercy, Lord. How stupid.

Movement pulled her eyes away from him to the sawmill shed. One of the cousins put a match to his pipe and stared in her direction. Probably one of Daddy’s spies. “So. How’s it coming with your steam engine?”

That was good. Get him to talking. Besides, the sound of his voice caressed her ears. She could listen to him all day.

“Better than expected. The boiler I bought in New Orleans should be here in a day or two. We’re getting everything ready for it.” He stood. “Care to inspect our progress?”

She jumped to her feet, as did her baby sister. Why couldn’t she go pout in the buggy again?  “I’d love to.” She hoped he would take her hand and stroll around and explain how it all worked, but no.

Instead, he stuck his paws in his trousers’ pockets. Though the machine talk bored her to tears, she did her best to smile, nod, and exclaim intermittently.

Too soon, time came for her to go back home, the last thing she wanted to do, but he said he needed to get to work, and she couldn’t come up with any plausible excuses to stay any longer.

Nothing to do but leave.

Hopefully, Bonnie had pegged Daddy wrong, and he wouldn’t be upset about her bringing Elijah dinner. Of course, she’d brought enough for him, too. So what could he really say, after all? Surely he’d appreciate that. He’d never guess.…

“I don’t appreciate you asking Elijah right out if he was married. That was nothing but rude, and you know it.”

“Well, I don’t get why in the whole world you would be. You wanted to know, didn’t you? And asking is the best way to find out, isn’t it? The onliest way as I see it since if he was, his wife would be all the way back in California.”

“Don’t get sassy with me, little girl. And onliest is not a word, either.”

Her sister crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, how you going to find a thing out if you don’t ask a question?”

“You can be coy, come in the back door. Maybe say something like, I imagine your wife is missing you. Or, I love that shirt, did your wife make it?”

The younger burst out laughing. “You kidding me? Ought to be glad I asked him right out so you didn’t have to look like a lunatic.” She turned in the seat. “Now let’s talk about your money and what I have to do to get it.”

Once she got the horse headed home and threw one last goodbye wave, she glanced over at her sister. “First, I want to know what Elijah said to you.”

Bonnie shook her head and looked off in the opposite direction. Was she thinking or being her obstinate self? She finally turned back. “Can’t exactly say.”

“And why not?”

One hand went to her hip, and she squinted and pursed her lips. Cecelia hated that expression.

“Because he asked me if I could keep a secret. And I told him I could. So there. I’m bound by my honor not to divulge Elijah’s private conversation with me, and there isn’t anything you can do about it.”

“Why you little –”

“I can tell you.…” She smiled a stupid superior grin and raised her chin. “Wait. I almost forgot. My pay. Now what else can you offer if I come with you every day? And tell you what I can about what I know?”

“Forget that for now. So there is something you’re able to tell me concerning what you and he talked about?”

“Oh…that…” She sighed and stared dead ahead. “Well, it was about you.”

That was good. Right? “So what did he say?”

“CeCe, you know what store Daddy puts on keeping one’s word. Am I going to have to tell him you’re trying to get me to break a confidence?”

Such a brat. How did she get so smart so fast? Cecelia and Gwen were what? Twelve and fourteen when they used to.…

Oh, mercy. It hit her between the eyes. She was reaping what she and Gwen used to sow with Rebecca. And even Mary Rachel to a certain extent. She hated being on the big sister side of that coin. She needed to outsmart her some way.

Hey, there was an idea.

She’d figure out an excuse to ship Bonnie off to live with Wallace and Rebecca until Elijah asked her to marry him. Would she have to let her oldest sister in on the plan? Would Rebecca be of a mind to help her?

She toyed with that idea for a quarter mile. But if she could rid herself of Bonnie, Houston might even be worse. And he probably couldn’t be bribed nearly as easily either. What about Charlie?

No, he’d be an even bigger pain. Last time the Rusks came to dinner, her brother-in-law was all about how busy he was with the planting. Maybe that could work in her favor.

“Fine. I’ll not badger you to break a confidence. But if there’s a way you could like…give me a hint or.…”

“No guessing. Or hints. Now stop trying to weasel it out of me.”

“Fine. But one day....” She let the threat trail off, then when Bonnie didn’t take the bait, turned her attention to her father. Pigheaded man had to punish her and her sisters just because of Mary Rachel running off. It wasn’t fair.

Her father’s oft spoke words danced across her memory: ‘Life isn’t always fair.’

How could she sugar-up this situation?

Why’d he go and shoot his mouth off about having to be eighteen to be courted? Hmm. Maybe she knew a way around Mister Henry Buckmeyer. Mama May! As a woman, she’d surely understand. But would she agree to wield her considerable influence over the man to change his mind?

Though in some quarters Cecelia would already be considered an old maid, that tact wouldn’t likely hold water with a lady who hadn’t married at all until she was forty-one—and so beautiful. Why had she?

None of her sisters could believe she was that old when they found out on the trip to Europe. They’d guessed more like in her early thirties.

No, she had to figure out another way to get Mama May to change Daddy’s mind.

Eleven months was too long to wait. Besides, Gwen would have a whole year of eligibility to flirt with him before Cecelia came of age. No. She had to take matters into her own hands. Wasn’t it somewhere in the Bible? Strike while the iron’s hot?

 

 

Gwendolyn set the bowl of mixed greens seasoned with ham hock—and only Jewel knew what else—on the supper table.

Some fine day, when the right man came courting, the one her father would approve of, who would sweep her off her feet and down the aisle, then and only then she could eat all she wanted.

It was altogether wrong that the men could wolf down piles of food and never gain an ounce. She strolled back as CeCe and Bonnie hurried past as though running some race. So immature!

Acted like whoever put the most food on the table got an extra piece of pie or something. CeCe returned first, but instead of grabbing the plate of fried tomatoes, she stopped next to her and leaned in.

“Who’s the gent sitting next to Elijah?”

“A timber buyer Daddy’s showing around tomorrow.”

“Why? We’re not selling any of our land, are we?”

“How would I know? And who cares anyway?” She hadn’t intended for her tone to sound so irritated.

Even though she’d only been ten when her mama passed, she remembered her always saying that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Gwen nodded toward the plate, but her sister didn’t respond.

Seemed the older Cecelia got, the harder she was to control.

Mama May reached in and grabbed the tomatoes. “Come on, ladies. Everything’s ready.”

Instead of calling on anyone to bless the food, her daddy stood and waited a few seconds while the hubbub died down to only Houston’s blabber with Bart. Bonnie poked him and both hushed.

“Everyone, this is Braxton Hightower. He’s come to Red River County looking for timberland and will be staying with us for a while.”

Starting with Mama May, he introduced the whole clan right down the line and up the other side, ending with her. Mister Hightower smiled from the far end and nodded. But then instead of looking away, he held her gaze.

His intensity caused her to lower her eyes. The man was too…what? She glanced back, and he looked away, but wore a slight winner’s grin.

Had it been a game?

Humph.

A little arrogant it seemed. She hadn’t been playing a game with the dandy, not after just meeting him. After all! A bowl of cream peas came around. She dipped out only one spoonful, then made herself pass it on.

And like a man, CeCe could eat whatever she wanted and never had trouble buttoning anything. Gwen hated it.

Bonnie was almost as bad, but she was growing so fast. She stabbed two peeled tomato slices and sighed. Mama May understood about watching her weight, but she was married, so what did it matter?

Daddy wouldn’t love her any less. Finally, the plates of food stopped whizzing past her nose.

Taking a dainty lady-like bite, she smiled at Elijah. After washing that down, she cleared her throat and patted her lips. “How was your day, Mister Eversole?”

He glanced up and finished chewing while giving her a wait-just-a-minute finger. “Good, real good. Got a lot done today. Hoping the boiler arrives tomorrow.”

She could care less about the saw mill, but asked about it anyway to let Braxton know he was not the only eligible man at the table. Hmmm. Or was he? She’d assumed….

For the next few minutes, Elijah talked instead of eating while she snuck peeks at the stranger beside him at the other end of the table. She liked the way the Californian explained things, almost had her interested in the mill’s working.

Then Braxton asked a question and instead of talking to her, Eversole delved into a conversation with the mystery man and her father.

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