Read The Brides of Chance Collection Online

Authors: Kelly Eileen Hake,Cathy Marie Hake,Tracey V. Bateman

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #Romance

The Brides of Chance Collection (75 page)

BOOK: The Brides of Chance Collection
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Since I don’t care to catch myself a husband, my appearance don’t much matter, but it surely would be wondrous to move and talk so ladylike. These here women are like queens
. Lovejoy laughed at herself. None of that mattered. When she went home, those kinds of trappings and pretenses would be out of place.
Who am I kiddin’? I’m just an ol’ hillbilly woman, and a plain one at that
. She tied on her boots and went to see about starting breakfast.

As she cooked, she asked Delilah, “Why do ya’ll go a-buyin’ what grows free?”

“Like what?” Delilah started setting the tables.

“Yarbs and such. Thyme, sage, rosemary—why, you could have nice, fresh stuff ’stead of this bitty box you got at the mercantile.”

Delilah laughed. “The MacPhersons gave me a bag of seeds for my birthday. Paul and I planted most of the flowers, but I didn’t know what to do with the herbs.”

“Yore lookin’ pert today. What say we fix up a yarb garden?”

“Oh, I’d love that. I enjoy gardening so much!”

By afternoon Delilah, Lovejoy, Polly, and Ginny Mae were dirt-streaked and delighted. They shared a pitcher of lemonade and watched Shortstack stalk Daniel as he put up a chicken-wire fence around the carefully laid-out plot. “How’s about we go for a nice walk? I been readin’ that book Paul got me from town. I’m thinkin’ we cain gather up some of the edibles and usables.”

Daniel straightened up. “Usables?”

“That book Paul got me in town says there’s plenty hereabouts that’s handy if a body knows what to do with it. Yesterday I seen a bunch of broom. Broom’s wild, and I reckon we cain gather up sufficient for me to make up some brooms—maybe even little ones for small hands.” She cast a smile at his daughters.

“Poison oak’s bad this year,” he warned. “No going off the path.”

“I’ll take good care of yore loved ones, Dan’l.”

“But who’s going to take care of you?”

Lovejoy slid her hands down her skirt. “You needn’t fret o’er that. The dear Lord does a fine job.”

Daniel watched them go. Delilah and Polly held hands, and each swung a basket in the other hand. Lovejoy carried Ginny Mae on her left hip and carried both a bucket and her ever-present gunnysack. Suspecting Lovejoy would find things she wanted to transplant, he shifted the fence line she’d paced off. Five more feet wouldn’t make a hill of beans’ worth difference to him, but she’d be pleased.

And he wanted to do things for her.

Lovejoy had faith God would take care of her soul, but that woman needed someone to fill in the little things here on earth. Self-reliant as she might be, that mountain girl needed to learn that others could help her so she didn’t have to scrape by. She put her heart and hands to helping others, and the result was she didn’t pay much attention to her own needs.

She’d come here and quietly filled in wherever they needed her. Before they’d moved here, Ma had an herb garden. It would be a nice sight, and he recalled how flavorful her cooking had been. She would have loved knowing the place boasted an herb—or as Lovejoy called it, a yarb—garden. Lovejoy was full of ideas and nifty tricks.

Her latest idea to make little brooms for his daughters was charming. As soon as he finished the fence, he’d go find saplings or thin branches that he could whittle into broomsticks. Maybe he’d whittle a special hook for her medicine satchel. She was always careful to put it up high, out of the girls’ reach. The brass latch on that satchel had been hanging by a small wire she’d threaded through where the prongs had been, but he’d repaired it good as new last night with four small brads and a reinforcing plate. He wondered when she’d discover that. It wouldn’t be a secret when she did. Lovejoy noticed little things and always appreciated them.

“Hey, Dan!”

Daniel turned toward the stable. He didn’t see anyone, but it had been Bryce’s voice.

“The blue’s in a bad way.” For Bryce to call out a problem meant something was drastically wrong. He normally doctored the animals by himself.

Dan left the bright summer sun and entered the cool shade of the barn. They’d sunk a tidy sum into buying the blue roan last week. For being just weaned, it already stood twelve hands and boasted a sweet disposition. They had big plans for him. “What’s wrong?”

“Colic.” Bryce grunted.

Daniel immediately grabbed the halter and started pulling. “I’ll walk him.”

Bryce eased away. “Have at it. He’s been fighting me.”

Clenching the halter tighter, Daniel hauled the beast up the center aisle of the barn to the doorway and back. They paced that same route several times. He kept his gait steady and slow, careful not to exhaust Blue.

“I already gave him hot water and mineral oil,” Bryce said.

It took the two of them to keep Blue upright. The colt tried desperately to lie down so he could roll, but that would be the death of him. His coat grew slick and dark with sweat.

“He’s sufferin’ something awful,” Bryce said as he tried to wipe down the horse.

Daniel heard the edge in Bryce’s voice. Calm as Bryce stayed in the worst of cases when the animals sickened, that boded ill. “Walking isn’t working.” Unable to think of anything else to do, Daniel asked, “Think we ought to give him another dose of mineral oil?”

“I gave him plenty. It didn’t work. Only thing left is an old horseman’s remedy.”

“We’re going to lose him if we don’t do something quick. Let’s do it.”

Miriam came into the stable. “Did you need some lunch or help?”

“Coffee. Strong as you’ve got it,” Bryce ordered. “I want two quarts. Ginger tea, too. Same two quarts.”

Miriam got a puzzled look on her face, but she didn’t stay to ask why he’d made such an odd request. Something in his tone sent her flying.

“Keep him upright,” Bryce said. “I need whiskey.”

“Bryce, drinking—”

“For the horse.” Bryce shot him an irritated look and headed toward the tack room. When he came back with two sizable bottles, he added, “Seein’ Logan fall off his horse and brain Miriam the night she arrived should have made me swear off the stuff. I was too hardheaded to figure it out, but being drunk as a skunk when Titus brought Alisa here finally made me see the light. I haven’t had a drop since. I keep a store of it for medicinal purposes.”

Miriam reappeared bearing the coffeepot. Alisa accompanied her with a pitcher. “Lovejoy made ginger tea for us this morning.”

“Empty them on in here.” Bryce had taken the caps off both bottles and was dumping their contents into a steel bucket.

Fearing the horse might kick one of the women, Daniel rasped, “You women best get out of here.”

“We’ll be praying,” Alisa said as she and Miriam scurried away.

Pouring the remedy into a suffering colt took brute strength and perseverance. As soon as they succeeded, Daniel and Bryce started the horse in motion again.

“How long before we know if that worked?” Daniel looked over the colt’s withers at Bryce for the answer.

“Twenty minutes or so.” Bryce’s brow furrowed. “It’s amazing that we already had that ginger tea. Coffee, we always have, but the tea…well, that was nothing short of heavenly providence.”

“Lovejoy made it.”

Bryce rubbed the blue as they shuffled along. His voice was slow and thoughtful. “Never seen a woman like her.”

“She’s one of a kind.”

“You startin’ to have feelin’s for her, Dan?”

Dan snapped, “I’ve already had a good woman.”

“Yup, you did.” A second later Bryce added, “Good, not perfect. Hannah loved you, and she bore you two children.”

Chest tight, Daniel waited for the other shoe to drop.

“I won’t recite her shortcomings, Dan. I’m just going to say she had some. We all do. Grieving makes us remember folks fondly.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Bryce heaved a sigh. “Tell me, which horse is better? This here blue or Cooper?”

“What kind of nonsense is that? This one is young and untried. He’s worth a bundle. Cooper is trained and useful. He’s proven himself over and over. They’re entirely different. I can’t compare them.”

“Hannah was like this blue—beautiful, sleek, and young. She meant the world to you. Lovejoy’s like Cooper—ordinary, hardworking, and loyal, but you’re blind to that. She can’t measure up because you’ve let your memories turn a regular woman into a saint.”

“Who says I’m blind?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Dan stopped in his tracks. He stared at his brother. “I can list plenty of Lovejoy’s virtues. It doesn’t mean I’m ready to get hitched to her, though.”

“I didn’t ask if you were ready to get hitched. I asked if you’re startin’ to have feelings.”

At that moment the blue managed to get down to business. Bryce nodded wearily. “He’ll make it. I’ll keep him walking awhile yet. You can go on.”

Dan headed toward the wide-open door. He stopped in the big sunlit square and looked out. His daughters both wore wreaths of daisies in their hair and about their necks, and they each had hold of Lovejoy’s skirts. Drawing in a deep breath, Dan turned back toward Bryce. “Yeah. I’ve got feelings for her.”

Chapter 15

R
eliable is one fine little place,” Tempy said as she latched a lid on a jar of berries.

“Purdy as a fawn’s coat.” Lovejoy scooted over and made room for Delilah at the table. Two days ago the Chance women had gone to the MacPherson spread to help put up vegetables. Today the MacPherson women were returning the favor after they’d all gone berry picking.

“And the folks hereabouts are neighborly as cain be.” Lois came out of the bedroom carrying Caleb, with Ginny Mae and Polly following behind her. The children’s cheeks were flushed from their nap.

Reba White had come, too. Priscilla refused to join them, but no one pointed that out. Lovejoy had learned Priscilla had refused Titus’s marriage proposal, so she figured it was for the best that Alisa wouldn’t have to spend an awkward day with a disagreeable woman.

The Chance families couldn’t begin to imagine how blessed they were to have tables laden with plenty and not know what it was to be hungry, to sit at that table where love, not strife, ruled. Lovejoy smiled at Tempy. The true blessing was that her own sister had married up, and the Lord seemed to be smiling down on her in the same way.

A knock sounded on the open door as someone said, “Is Miz Spencer here?”

“Yes, she is, Todd.” Miriam motioned her neighbor to come inside.

“I heard tell she’s good at doctoring. Chris Roland got a gash on his head that needs stitching.”

Wiping her hands on her apron, Lovejoy headed toward the bedroom. “Let me get my satchel.”

“What do you mean, you let her ride off with him?” Daniel glowered at his brothers as they got ready to sit down to supper. “This can’t continue. Two days can’t pass without someone wanting her attention.”

Gideon elbowed Titus. “It’s mostly Dan’s fault. Chopping all that wood, he gets some pretty wicked splinters.”

Daniel ignored that jibe. “If folks want Lovejoy’s help, they can come here instead of expecting her to wander all over Reliable Township. It’s not safe.”

“She’s scrappy.” Bryce plopped down and swiped a biscuit. “I reckon she can handle herself.”

Logan snorted. “He reckons anyone who can lance a boil on a horse can do anything.”

Paul cast a quick glance at Delilah and whispered hotly, “Watch what you say. Delilah’s barely keeping her meals down. I won’t have you spoil her appetite.”

“Well, I’m taking a stand,” Daniel announced. “She doesn’t pay house calls unless it’s an emergency, and if that’s what’s up, one of us men will escort her.”

He kept busy with his daughters at the table, then took them to their cabin. It didn’t surprise him in the least when Lovejoy knocked on the door. “I come to smear some salve on the girls’ arms. They got scratched up a mite pickin’ berries today.”

Daniel stood back and watched Lovejoy minister to his daughters. Once he’d thought her to be a mousy-looking woman. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Compassion shone from her hazel eyes, and her mouth perpetually tilted into a warm smile. The string she used to tame her hair into a simple plait snagged on a button of Polly’s nightdress and slipped off. Instead of fussing with her own hair, Lovejoy fretted over a scratch on Polly’s arm then kissed it better. Dan caught himself wishing the braid would unravel entirely.

BOOK: The Brides of Chance Collection
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