Sixty Acres and a Bride (10 page)

H
ULLO! DID SOMEONE ORDER
a shipment of sheep?”

Rosa dropped her embroidery on the settee. A quick look out the parlor window revealed a mounted man waving at her and a flock meandering up the drive to the open pasture gate.

“Louise, you’re not going to believe your eyes.”

“Land sakes!” Louise still held a wooden spoon in her hand. “Where did all those sheep come from? And what’s that donkey doing in the mix?”

Rosa couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. He’d even sent a burro. Grabbing her stunned mother-in-law by the arm, she dragged her to the front porch.

“Howdy, Mrs. Garner and Mrs. Garner. Jake England at your service.” He tipped his hat with a roguish smile that spread beneath a nose knocked awry, probably by a hostile fist long ago. “I sure hope I’m at the right farm. I ain’t herding these old girls back across the creek.”

The sheep milled past, driven by two young men. Behind them came a wagon holding two more men, one being young Samuel, Uncle George and Aunt Mary’s son.

“My nephew Weston told me to expect some unsound ewes. You’ve got the correct location, but perhaps you’ve brought the wrong flock.”

“No mistake, ma’am. I reckon there were some extras he wanted to be rid of, ewes and wethers. If it makes you feel better, there’re some in need of doctoring in the wagon. We’ll get them put up in the barn for ya.”

Ignoring the sheep, Rosa watched the cowboys’ antics. The wagon driver had kicked Samuel out and was arguing with him over the best way to get the stubborn burro to its final destination. Seeing them squared off, no one could deny the family resemblance. Not only did both boys have Uncle George’s features stamped across their faces, but their heated gestures were easily identifiable as Aunt Mary’s. Why, she really was surrounded by family! And the man on the horse? Louise pieced it together at the same moment she did.

“Jake England, did you say? Then you’re my little Eliza’s sweet husband.”

“I don’t know about sweet,” he drawled. “That girl is more trouble than any sweet man could handle.” He winked outrageously at Rosa. Evidently, Eliza had met her match.

“Nonsense. I won’t have you talking about my niece that way, although I have to confess she hasn’t changed one bit since she was a little sprite—sassy-mouthed and bossy. Weston had his hands full after their father died.”

“Yes, ma’am, and now the job falls on me.” He took off his hat and swung it over his heart. “When you’re saying your prayers at night, remember to send up a special request for ol’ Jake England. I need the patience of a saint.”

“And you’re far from it!” The speaker was a lanky young man with hands too big to fit in his pockets. “Welcome home, Aunt Louise.”

“Bailey? George and Mary’s boy? My, how you’ve grown!” Louise’s words confirmed Rosa’s suspicions. Another cousin.

Louise rustled forward, and he accepted the obligatory hug and cheek kiss, much to the amusement of his fellow cowboys, who’d returned from penning the sheep and burro. There they stood, lined up, gawking like they’d never seen women before.

“And this is my daughter-in-law, Rosa Garner. You remember Mack, don’t you, Bailey?”

“Yes, ma’am. Mother told me about your loss.” They observed a moment of silence, as was fitting, and then Bailey commenced with his own introductions.

“Please excuse me, ladies. I’ve been on the trail for three months and have completely lost my manners. Anyway, this fellow here is Willie and the youngster there is Rico.”

Willie tipped his hat, and then stepped back, but Rico, seeing a fellow compatriot, bounded forward and, with a sweep of his hat, caught Rosa’s hand and pressed it to his lips.

“
Mucho gusto
, señorita.”

The Mexican youth made an instant impression on Rosa. Initially, she’d thought that both he and Willie were of African blood, so she wasn’t prepared for how her heart leapt at the language from her homeland.

Rico was considerably younger than she, as were all the cowboys with the exception of Jake, but she couldn’t help but be drawn to him. She wondered about his family. Where were they? Could she meet them?

Ambushed by homesickness that’d been tightly suppressed, she answered him. “Thank you, señor. Mucho gusto, as well.”

“That’s not fair.” Bailey pulled Rico away from her. “You’re in Texas. Speak English so the rest of us can understand.”

“The rest of you could never understand.” He fanned his face dreamily and made such obvious eyes at Rosa, she knew at once he was only acting for the benefit of his friends.

“Sorry about them, ma’am,” Jake interrupted. “They’ve been out of civilization for too long. We should have given them more time to get adjusted before bringing them out here.”

“I’m not offended.” Rosa smiled at each of them, boys really. Dangerous, impulsive boys, but boys at heart.

Louise waved them forward with her wooden spoon. “Come on in. At least allow us to get you refreshments before going back.”

“No, ma’am. Weston would string me up if I let them in your parlor. Bulls in a china shop, they are, but if we could help ourselves to your water pump, we’d be mighty appreciative.”

The June sun had peaked and was relentless. The heat would get worse—at least that’s what they’d told her—and she couldn’t doubt it, as every day the green spring was burned out of the grass and leaves, the colors fading and fading. The prairie would brown long before the autumn chill stopped the growth, but for now they still could catch a cool breeze in the evenings. Still, it was hard to imagine more heat for weeks on end. The foliage and altitude of Ciauhtlaz hadn’t allowed for such misery.

“So, the sheep are at pasture. Those in the field are healthy. Don’t know what he had in mind with the donkey. That thing is purt near worthless. Could barely get it through the gate.” Jake flashed a grin at Rosa. “Is that for you to ride?”

“No, sir.” But she would if she needed to.

“We unloaded the hurt ewes and wethers from the wagon and put them in the barn. They’ll need that ointment on their cuts once a day. If they get infected, send over to George’s, and he’ll get someone to come and check it out. Is that it?”

The cowboys swung into their saddles and headed toward home. Bailey let Samuel hold the reins on the empty wagon, bringing an end to their dispute.

Jake turned one last time. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Garner. I’m glad to finally make the acquaintance of Eliza’s favorite aunt. And you, Mrs. Rosa. I think I see what all the fuss is about. Good day.” He clicked to his horse and was gone.

Rosa watched them ride off before she turned to Louise. “What did he mean by that? I haven’t made any fuss, have I?”

Louise put her arm around her shoulder as they walked to the barn to examine their sheep. “No, honey. You haven’t made a fuss, but evidently you’ve caused one.”

From his seat on the church steps on Sunday, Weston had an unobstructed view of his sister and Rosa at their places in the serving line. Their foreheads almost touched as they shared some private news over a pot of green beans. No telling what mischief Eliza was up to, but the girls got on splendidly. He was a little surprised. Maybe Rosa would have a calming effect on Eliza.

But the congregation’s varied reactions to the señora astonished him. Some had quickly welcomed her into their tight-knit circle, perhaps out of sympathy—both for her and for Louise—and perhaps because she was the tiniest, least threatening filly to ever wander in their midst. If dishes needed washing, she chose the dirtiest. If children needed tending, she held the heaviest. She did her part, and then some.

But a few grew more suspicious with each good deed. They’d already declared their disapproval—Weston remembered who—and Rosa’s good behavior thwarted their expectations. If she didn’t cause a scandal soon, they’d be eating crow.

Weston mopped up some gravy with his biscuit. Rosa made him proud. She was a quick study. Keeping her on the farms helped, too. Not much trouble for her to get into out there—unless the sheep got loose.

“It’s good to see you laugh.”

Weston took a second to make out who was speaking amidst the pink flounces and red ribbons. He should have known. Only Molly could pull off a getup like that.

“Good day, Miss Lovelace. That’s quite a plateful of sweets you have there.”

“Mother always said my eyes were bigger than my stomach.” She batted the former and cinched up the latter. “May I share?”

That’s what he got for sitting by himself, unsociable. He scooted to the far side of the wooden steps, giving her room to join him. If anyone had a right to his attention, it’d be her. Her family could lay claim to his time whenever they pleased. He’d only started shaving when he joined Mr. Lovelace’s rescue attempt for the Texas Mounted Volunteers after the disastrous Sibley Campaign. His father died during the ill-fated attack against the Union at Glorieta Pass, but many local men were saved because of Lovelace’s actions. It didn’t hurt Weston to talk to his daughter.

“Are those gingersnaps?”

“Sure are.” She sat a step lower than he and held out her plate. “I brought them.”

They melted in his mouth. “They’re my favorite. You made these, you say?”

The smile froze on her lips. “Not exactly. Lola made them.”

Her cook. “Well, pass on my compliments to Lola. They’re delicious.”

Had he done his duty? The steps steamed under the noon sun. Weston wanted to seek shade, but Molly’s brother caught him before he could escape.

“Howdy, Weston. Why are you sitting way out here by yourself?”

“He’s not by himself. I’m here.”

Nicholas rolled his eyes. “What I mean is, he hasn’t stayed for dinner in ages. Now here he is, and he’s acting like a leper. No offense, Wes, just making an observation.”

Molly shoved her plate into her brother’s hands. “Here, why don’t you finish this off for me?”

Weston couldn’t keep his attention away from Rosa. Was it his imagination, or was she troubled? He saw her startle, then drop her serving spoon. She went to the dessert table to stand by Louise, leaving Jay Tillerton holding his empty plate in confusion.

Weston realized too late that Molly was watching him with the same intensity.

“Nick,” she said, “why don’t you see if Rosa has had any dinner yet. She should get something to eat before they have to start cleaning up.”

Nicholas’s dimpled cheeks moved up an inch on his face. “Capital idea. And she’s already at the dessert table.”

Perhaps Weston was mistaken. Whatever had alarmed Rosa seemed to have passed. She smiled brightly at Nicholas as he ambled toward her. Weston couldn’t hear what he said, but it must have been funny, for Rosa repeated it to Louise, causing the laughing woman to fling her dish towel at Nicholas.

Molly cleared her throat. “The other night I was reading a volume called
The Mythology of Ancient Greece and Italy
, and I found it so fascinating.”

“Really?”

Nicholas brought Rosa a drink. Of course she was thirsty. She hadn’t had anything since church started. Why hadn’t he thought of that?

“Yes, and several stories caught my attention. I couldn’t help but wonder, what’s your favorite?”

Rosa took a seat at a long table with Nicholas at her side. She wolfed her food down, probably trying to get away from the oaf as quickly as possible. Nicholas either chewed or talked continuously, sometimes simultaneously, for his mouth never stilled.

“Weston?”

Weston turned, surprised to find Molly sitting by him. How had he imagined that she’d left?

“What?”

“Your favorite Greek myth?”

He shrugged. “I’m not familiar with Greek myths.”

“But your horse is named Pandora.”

“Eliza named her. If you are interested in myths, talk to her. She likes to read all those old books.”

“You don’t know any myths?”

Why was the girl so disappointed? “I never had a reason to read them.”

Molly flicked a beetle crawling up the step. “Neither have I, evidently.”

Rosa had finished eating. She rose, putting a hand on Nicholas’s shoulder to steady herself as she slid between the table and bench. Weston winced and then rose to his feet.

“Looks like time to break camp.”

Molly played with a red ribbon. “And I didn’t bring my apron. Why can I never remember that?”

“Then maybe I can lend a hand. If you’ll excuse me.”

Making his way around the picnic blankets and long tables toward where Eliza and Rosa were already scrubbing plate after plate, he grunted again at the nerve of the Lovelace boy. Did he mean anything by his friendliness? Was he really going to court her? Weston didn’t think so. From what he knew of the man’s family, only a first-rate society belle would do, not a young widow without a penny to her name. If marriage wasn’t Nicholas’s goal, then his intentions could be narrowed to very few legitimate options. He might have a talk with the young man.

Weston gathered empty dishes from a grateful young mother’s table and calmed himself. Nicholas hadn’t done anything wrong—yet. Surely Thomas and Adele wouldn’t permit him to meddle with Rosa.

Yes, he felt obligated to care for the whole herd of Garners, but couldn’t little Rosita make things easier on him? The way she looked up at the boy with stars in her eyes . . .