Sixteen Brides (35 page)

Ella had always thought hosting a Harvest Festival at Four Corners was a grand idea, and as time went on community enthusiasm built, and the event seemed to take on a life of its own. Caroline got Bill Toady to say he would come and play, and Bill said he’d do better than that and bring a seven-piece band. Of course, once the band was coming, it only made sense to borrow the Haywood Mercantile dance floor, and if they were hauling the dance floor out, Martha said they might as well put up an arbor, too, and she would decorate it in a harvest theme, and after all, wasn’t it a good idea to have the lanterns in the event the “harvest moon” went behind some clouds?

When Jackson said something about that “feather-light white cake from the Plum Grove Dining Hall,” Caroline said she’d see to it that he had more than he could eat. And then Sally joked about a cake-eating contest and that turned into a pie-eating contest.

Alice Bailey suggested an outdoor quilt show; the ladies could display their quilts draped over the sides of their wagons. When Caroline carried that suggestion home from town, Ruth mentioned that pumpkin orange was, after all, appropriate for the season.

It was as if the wind carried the news, and before the ladies of Four Corners quite knew what had happened, they were hosting an event that was akin to a county fair, complete with a quilting bee to begin at noon and ending with a dance that would likely last most of the night.

Wagonloads of neighbors began rolling in at midmorning on that clear September day, and by suppertime, not only had the ladies tied two comforters and quilted half of one of Caroline’s pieced quilt tops, Dr. Gates had been called upon to put four stitches along Jackson’s left cheek when he tried—and failed—to jump Sam over a fence. Ruth didn’t know whether to scold him or encourage him to try again. She opted for the latter and cheered louder than anyone when Sam sailed over the fence successfully.

When the wranglers from Graystone Ranch began to arrive, it was only natural that someone had to earn bragging rights about having the fastest horse in the county, and so a race course was set up from the cottonwood tree up to the section line, across Cross Creek, and back again, the winning rider to be awarded a dance with the lady of his choice. When Sally Grant called out, “And it had better be me,” everyone laughed.

Lucas Gray didn’t race, even though everyone knew that if he did, that flashy chestnut gelding of his would win. Every time Ella saw him, Gray was either talking to Jackson or laughing with Ruth—who’d shocked everyone by wearing a new red dress for the event. She looked ten years younger in it. In fact, Ruth was looking younger in general these days. Mostly because she was smiling more, Ella thought. Mama said it was more than that, that Ruth was falling in love again.

All in all, Ella had a wonderful day. She moved from one group to the next, welcoming people onto the place and answering more questions than she cared to about the “night you all hog-tied two desperadoes in the kitchen.” She loved watching Mama flit around and retell her version of “the desperado story,” and she didn’t even mind the idea of hosting a dance, because Jeb wouldn’t be there to not dance with her.

Everything was grand until, along about sunset, Jeb Cooper’s wagon appeared coming over the rise, and there she was. Elizabeth. She looked more like a queen than a homesteader’s wife. The closer the wagon got, and the more Ella could see of the woman’s elegant green traveling suit complete with matching parasol, the more Ella’s head hurt. When Jeb reached up and, with a loving smile and a little laugh, lifted Elizabeth to the earth, Ella decided the headache was just too much. She must lie down and rest.

Thank goodness the community’s babies were sleeping in the opposite end of the house. When she slipped into her bedroom and lay down, no one was the wiser. Until someone came in the back door. Footsteps hurried across the floor and paused at the open door to her room. Ella closed her eyes.

“Ella! What do you think you are doing?! Jeb Cooper’s back. He’s asking for you.”

“I’m resting, Mama. I have a headache.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t get headaches.”

“Well, I have one tonight. Please, Mama. Go back to the party. Offer Jeb and his wife my congratulations and tell him I’ll see them in church on Sunday.”

“What are you talking about?” Mama came to stand at her bedside. “Elizabeth. Mrs. Cooper. I’ll meet her on Sunday.”

“You aren’t making any sense.”

Ella sat up. “You don’t have to spare my feelings, Mama. I’ve known Jeb was going to get married since we delivered that fancy letter and that book of poems weeks ago. So—” “Jeb Cooper is
not
married.” Mama put her hands on her hips. “I declare, Ella, sometimes you are as dumb as a board when it comes to men.”

“Mama! I saw her. Elizabeth. Sitting beside him.”

“Well, of course you did.” Mama sighed. “Now, get up and get outside. Jeb’s asking for you. He wants his
sister
to meet you.”

Elizabeth Jorgenson née Cooper was nearly as tall as her brother. She was, Ella decided, probably the most intelligent woman on the earth, but she also appeared to be one of the nicest. It took no time at all for the Four Corners ladies to invite Elizabeth for lunch on Sunday, and Elizabeth didn’t wasn’t any time in retrieving a blanket out of the wagon bed of her brother’s wagon and thrusting it into his arms with a meaningful nod in Ella’s direction.

Jeb smoothed the blanket over his arm and came to Ella. “Can we . . . talk?”

He led her up the rise away from the house. When they turned around, Ella was struck by how beautiful she thought her place looked tonight.
Thank you, God.

“I missed you,” Jeb said.

“And we missed you. I don’t mind telling you I was a little hurt that you didn’t ask me to mind the livestock. That’s what neighbors are for, you know. They watch out for each other. You didn’t have to sell them.”

“Actually, it makes things simpler.” He spread the blanket and asked her to sit with him. Ella sat. Jeb talked. Her mouth fell open more than once. She could not picture Jeb Cooper in a fancy house.

“I didn’t fit at home with all the professors,” he said, “because I like to be outside working with my hands. And I’ll never quite fit out here because I don’t really want to be a homesteader, at least not in the conventional sense.” He chuckled. “I like to read too much.” He shrugged. “I’m a misfit.”

Just like me.

He shifted on the blanket so he could see her face in the moonlight. “I like you, Ella, and I’d like to be your friend. And friends deserve explanations. I’m sorry I haven’t done a better job of that. I honestly didn’t think— I never meant to hurt you. I should have explained more.”

“I thought you’d gone east to get married. I thought Elizabeth was your wife.”

Jeb began to chuckle, and then he laughed. “You thought I was getting a woman? In the
East
?” He shook his head. “Why would I want to do that when I already live right by one of the best women on the earth?”

Ella had nothing to say. Nothing at all. But even as her heart pounded, her eyes looked over at what she and her friends had created from empty prairie, and she didn’t think she could give it up. If that was where Jeb was headed . . . what would she do? What would she say? There was still so much to do, and it wasn’t about the fence or the buildings or the livestock or the crops nearly as much as it was about Ella Barton knowing. Knowing that what she’d been saying all along was true. She didn’t
need
a man. Oh, she might
want
one. But she didn’t need one.

“So.” Jeb spoke again. “Here’s what I’ve been thinking.” He nodded toward the homestead. “You have a dream down there. And you have a nightmare to forget. I don’t want to stand in the way of either one of those things taking their natural course.” He looked her way, the moonlight showing enough for her to tell he was smiling. “But I
do
want to be here when you decide you’re ready for a new dream. Would you be all right with that?”

Ella felt a tear slip out of the corner of one eye and slide down her cheek. It must have glistened in the moonlight. Jeb reached up and wiped it away with a calloused thumb. She caught his hand and held it next to her face so he could feel her nod. “Yes,” she said. “Oh . . . yes.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE

And I will restore to you
the years that the locust hath eaten. . . .

JOEL 2:25

T
he next morning, the ladies of Four Corners stood in a row between the soddy’s front door and the buggy. Someone joked about Hettie’s “running the gauntlet” as she made her way down the row, hugging each of them from Ella to Zita, past Sally and Jackson, and then finally to the carriage, where Ruth and Caroline waited to drive her into town. She hugged them all once . . . and then again . . . and then everyone laughed. Nervous laughter. Laughter laced with tears. The kind of laughter that said,
We are so proud of you
. . .
we want you to be happy . . . we’re hoping on hope ever.

“All right, y’all,” Caroline finally said. “We’ll never get her to town at this rate. And I allow as to how Dr. Gates is expecting us before midnight.” More nervous laughter, and then Hettie climbed up beside Caroline and they drove away, past the field of pumpkins and squash lying atop the earth like so many orange moons. The thought of orange would forever make Caroline smile.

People had been very complimentary of Alice Bailey’s creation using the orange remnants Martha had put on sale. But they’d been positively astounded when Mrs. Peterson unfurled hers. She called it “Prairie Stars.” No fewer than eighty stars—Caroline had counted them—glowed across the surface of a black quilt, and after sundown when the black faded into the shadows and the lamplight brushed across the surface of that quilt, it truly was as if stars twinkled in the night.

Alice Bailey was not pleased. The ladies were already wondering what she would create for the next Harvest Festival.

Next year . . .
As she gathered her shawl about her against the autumn chill, Caroline wondered what her first winter in Nebraska would bring. What would it be like out at Four Corners when bitter winds blew and snow fell for days? Sometimes she thought Will Haywood’s storytelling talent included a morbid taste for disaster. For a while he’d concentrated on “long red tongues of fire” licking up the dry grass. Lately, though, he’d switched to blizzards, advising the ladies to tie a guide rope between the house and the barn, the house and the fruit cellar, the house and the well.

Caroline couldn’t imagine winds so high and snow so deep a person could get lost between their own house and barn, but Matthew agreed with everything Will said. He’d helped Ella with a fireguard, plowing the sod up in two concentric circles a few rods apart all around the Four Corners house, then set fire to the undisturbed grass in between. When Ruth mentioned Lucas Gray’s note about barrels by the well, Matthew said that was a good idea, too.

As for being ready for winter, Matthew thought the ladies were, what with the mountain of buffalo chips for fuel and the larder full of garden produce. “You can always bring the team into the house,” he said, and laughed when Ruth looked horrified by the idea.

“Well, if that’s what it takes to keep Red and the girls safe,” Sally said when the idea came up, “you’uns had best get used to the idea.” She grinned. “In fact, now that we don’t need Hettie’s loft no more, maybe—”

“No!” everyone shouted in chorus.

“Aw, I was just foolin’.” Sally grinned. “But mind, I won’t be foolin’ if it comes to keepin’ ’em from freezin’ to death.”

“What?” Hettie asked when Caroline chuckled to herself.

“Oh, I was just remembering Sally’s threat to bring the hens in the house if we get a blizzard.” When Hettie didn’t smile, Caroline realized the poor thing still had a white-knuckled grip on her carpetbag. She reached over to squeeze her hand. “It’s gonna be all right.”

“I know.” Hettie didn’t sound convinced.

“Dr. Gates has been brave enough to put down the bottle and follow you and risk everything all over again. I’d say life with a man like that is worth rescuing.”

Hettie nodded. “You’re right.”

“What is it Zita always tells us . . . forget what’s behind and press on with hope.” Caroline pulled her shawl closer.

“I’m doing my best,” Hettie said. “Wait until you see the cradle Matthew’s loaning us for the baby. It’s a work of art.” She loosened her grip on the carpetbag and took a deep breath. “I hope it’s a girl.”

Matthew ran his hand over the cradle’s smooth finish and then stood back to admire the soft luster he’d brought back to the surface of the wood. With the tip of his toe, he set it in motion. “Well,” he said, “what do you think?”

“It’s perfect.” Linney unfolded the simple baby quilt Martha had helped her make and laid it atop the red-and-white-striped feather tick.

Together, they carried the cradle out the back of Matthew’s carpentry shop, across the dry prairie, and toward the newly completed house waiting in the distance. “You all right?” he asked. “Say something if you need a rest.”

“I don’t need a rest, Pa”—Linney rolled her eyes—“and if we don’t hurry, they’ll beat us to the house.” She jiggled the cradle. “Giddyup!”

With a chuckle, Matthew moved into a slow lope. Dr. Gates was waiting for them on the porch, his hands braced on the railing, his eyes fixed on the horizon. Motioning for them to follow him inside, he led the way to the back bedroom. They set the cradle in the corner and stepped back.

“Well,” Matthew said to Linney, “what do you think? Can your pa build a decent house or not?”

Back out in the hall, Linney ran her hand over the carved newel-post. “You’re welcome to see the upstairs, too,” Dr. Gates said. “There’s two more rooms up there. I just wanted to keep things convenient for Hettie by using the main floor for right now.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Linney gazed up the stairs.

“Not a bit. Your pa builds fine houses. Take a look.”

Matthew followed her upstairs. On the landing above he decided he couldn’t wait any longer to ask the question again. “So. What do you think?”

“It’s wonderful.”

He gestured from one room to the other. “Which room do you like best?”

Linney didn’t hesitate. “The one with the window seat.”

“All right. The one with the window seat it is.” When Linney looked confused, he said, “I’m building ours next.” He grabbed her hand and walked her toward the front of the house. Pointing out the window, he said, “Right there. I got my last check for that final pile of pelts a few days ago. So it’s official. Town Lot Number Ninety-three belongs to Matthew Ransom.”

If he’d known how much joy a man could give just by buying a square of Plum Grove dirt, maybe he would have done this long ago. On the other hand, as Linney let out a squeal and grabbed his neck and he swung her around, Matthew realized that this was exactly the right moment for him to be doing this. Any earlier, and it would have been out of guilt. Now it was for all the right reasons, and for just the right future, if he had anything to say about it.

“There’s something else about the house,” he said as he set Linney down. “Something very important. And I don’t want you to answer me right now. I want you to think about it. All right?”

Linney nodded. Matthew took a deep breath. “What would you think of our sharing that new house with someone? I haven’t said anything about it to anyone else. So if you—”

Linney’s eyes grew large, and she blurted out, “It’s Caroline, isn’t it! You want to ask Caroline to marry you! Oh, Pa!” Once again, she flung her arms around him and gave him a hug. “It’ll be wonderful. We can plant flowers together and cook together and make quilts together and—”

While Linney was going on and on about what she and Caroline could do together, Matthew was watching the buggy headed toward them across the prairie. His heart began to hammer. He looked back at his daughter. “Well, before you make all those plans, don’t you think we’d better find out if she’ll say yes?”

“She’ll say yes.”

“You sound very sure.”

“I am.”

“And how can you be so sure?”

“Oh, Pa.” Linney shook her head. “Did you pay
any
attention when you two were waltzing at the Harvest Dance?”

Well, now that he thought about it . . . he had.

Linney and Ruth had hurried over to the mercantile—the latter to get what Caroline supposed was yet another one of Lucas Gray’s missives, and Linney apparently worried that Martha would be upset with her for being gone so long. Hettie and Forrest had gone over to the clinic to discuss what furniture should be moved into their new parlor, and here Caroline stood with Matthew on the front porch of a house so lovely it made her heart ache. “It’s so beautiful,” she said. “You should be very proud.”

Matthew shrugged. “I think I might try a different shape on the porch finials next time. On the other hand, it’d be nice to build with brick. Will said the new courthouse is going to be brick. That would definitely make for a warmer house. Of course, I’m no bricklayer, but I could do more with the railings and the trim inside if—” He broke off. “Which would you want? If you were choosing?”

“Oh, I don’t suppose that’d matter much,” Caroline said. Her heart began to beat a little faster. “A fancy house isn’t what’s important.” Her accent was getting worse. She took a deep breath. “I mean, the fancy brick house in St. Louis wasn’t worth anything compared to how I feel about the Four Corners soddy.”

Matthew nodded. He tilted his head and looked down at her. “Well, I’m thinking brick would be the way to go someday. But I’m not sure I want to wait until I can afford brick. And Linney’s already approved of what I’d like to do. Which is”—he put his hands at her waist and drew her close—“to see you in every house I live in from the day you marry me until the day I die.” He leaned down and kissed the side of her neck. She shivered and pulled him closer. “Marry me,” he said, and kissed her neck again, then worked his way up to her jawline . . . the tip of her chin . . . and then he stopped and looked into her eyes again. “Marry me
soon
.” He kissed her lips.

She said yes
.

“What do you mean he’s
gone
?” Ruth looked down at Sally, who’d just come out of the soddy as they drove up from town.

“He rode up practically in tears, and by the time he finished tellin’ us what was goin’ on he
was
in tears. Said the cattle was sick and he’s afraid it’s Texas Fever and two were already down and he was goin’ to Lucas to see what to do about it. He didn’t even step off the horse, Ruth. Just lit out.”

Ruth looked toward the north.
That boy.
When she got her hands on him he was going to get a talking to the likes of which he would never forget. She sighed.

“I’ll ride with ya if you want to go after him—and I expect you will.” Sally grinned. “Just give me time to get my new dress on.”

Ruth hesitated. It was asking a lot of Calico to head out on a twenty-mile journey when she’d already done as much or more going to Plum Grove and back today. And Jackson might be rash, but the truth was he knew the way to the ranch very well, Sam was a good pony, and she’d never hear the end of it if she chased after him like a hysterical mother.