Tupelo Gold: Sweeter than Honey (Eclipse Heat Book 4) (5 page)

*

Comfort wet her lips nervously. She could taste Hamilton there, and his sudden bold demands roused both her ire and her desire. She was acutely aware of his hip pressing against hers as he drove the wagon to the Mercantile.  When they arrived, he jumped down quickly and Jacob hopped to the ground next to him.

“Jacob, take your sister into the store.” Hamilton lifted Sally carefully from the bench and turned back to Comfort clasping her waist in his big hands and squeezing her once before he set her on her feet. 

“Get the essentials now, Comfort. Beds and mattresses should be top of the list.”

“Hamilton, don’t forget I offer delivery. Your ranch house will be filled with curtains, cutlery, and costly furnishings before I’m through.” She looked at him pityingly.

“Our ranch house, Comfort, it’s our new home.” He only smiled at her taunt and corrected her.  

Comfort loved to shop but today she enjoyed watching. Sally went straight to the items she’d found captivating during her days with Comfort in the Mercantile. 

“I’ll need clothes for my new doll baby, for sure,” Sally looked sideways at Hamilton to see if he’d protest.

“That you will,” he said. “And I expect your doll will need a cradle to sleep in at night.”

“No, she’ll cuddle with me. I used to sleep with Jacob. I get afraid sometimes when I’m alone in the dark. Now I won’t be alone,” Sally said, smiling in anticipation.

Comfort’s breath caught and she wanted to give the little girl everything in the world.  Once the doll clothes were chosen, they moved on to a canopied bed, white vanity and rugs for the floor.  

“Is this a wild place Jacob’s pa is taking us?”  Sally’s inquiry troubled Comfort. 

“Hamilton’s your father too, Sally, just as I’m mama to both you and Jacob now.”

The little girl looked doubtfully at the two males across the store. Hamilton lounged next to Jacob where the boy was scrutinizing the saddles and horse supplies.

Jacob’s sister was shy, not stupid and everyone, Comfort included, skated over the child’s relationship to Hamilton. Comfort used Sally’s question to change the topic, though it was a subject Hamilton needed to address.

“As for the ranch being wild, I think of it as wilderness—no cook, no housekeeper, no store down the street.” Her playful tone gradually changed as she listed realities.

“The holidays are upon us. We not only have to furnish our new house, we have to be ready to entertain company in time for Thanksgiving and then Christmas. And I have to get the store ready for the biggest shopping season of the year.” Her voice dwindled to a whisper. “It’s impossible.”

Sally patted her hand, lending silent support. Then she said, firmly, “I’ll help you when we get to the new house, Mama.” The little girl’s eyes glowed with purpose.

“Your father has no idea what he demands,” Comfort grumbled, but Sally’s one word had restored her mood. She had a daughter. Maybe Sally’s affections were not real, maybe they were sham so she could get more presents. Comfort didn’t care. From little seeds mighty oaks grew.

She and Sally prepared for their ranch move, and gave the Eclipse citizens a shopping spree the gossips would talk about for years. 

Once they arrived at the ranch, Alex helped move the furniture inside, but disappeared as soon as the wagon was unloaded.

Hamilton lingered long enough to move the couch three times for Comfort, as she attempted to arrange the drawing room furniture. After she requested he return the sofa to its original position, he complied, and then fled, taking Jacob with him.

“Come on son,” Hamilton urged the boy. “Let the women play in here. We’ve got work to do outside.”

Play?
The beds had been set up, but had to be made ready for sleep. Boxes needed unpacked. Pictures waited to be hung. And clothes needed to be folded or hung—as soon as Comfort decided in whose bureau or closet, in which room. 

Any sulking she might have considered, evaporated, swept away by Sally’s enthusiasm. With the little girl’s help, Comfort set aside her doubts and embraced the enormous task of establishing a home.

Comfort’s heart warmed as the little girl worked beside her, enthusiastically tackling all the chores. They finished making up the canopy bed with the pink comforter and frilly pillows Sally had chosen. 

“This is all my own room?” Sally asked several times getting Comfort’s assurance it belonged just to her. “Etta can rest here while we work.” Sally tucked a blanket around her doll and propped her on the bed pillow. She took Comfort’s hand and pulled her toward the kitchen saying knowingly, “Best get to the hard part.”

Eventually someone would be hungry. It wouldn’t take long for the magically appearing and disappearing men to empty the basket of fried chicken Mrs. Carmichael had sent along. 

After unpacking the boxes, organizing the children’s rooms, arranging the living room, and preparing her own bedroom where she and Hamilton would sleep, it was time she faced the dreaded kitchen.

It was the one room Comfort had avoided. One wall was dominated by an elaborate six-foot tall iron stove installed when Hamilton built the house. Comfort knew how expensive it had been because she’d chosen it. Even at cost, Hamilton had paid the earth for it. It had never been used.

Hamilton had fashioned a brick cubbyhole to set the stove in, so the monstrous size didn’t claim all the floor space. A flat iron cooking area covered the top. Either wood or coal could be burned below, where heavy doors closed off fire boxes. 

Mrs. Carmichael had said Comfort’s kitchen would be the envy of every woman in the state if anyone knew about it. Hamilton had been so proud when he’d pointed out the two large ovens that stood above the flat stovetop.

“You can bake pies in one while you have meat roasting in the other,” he’d explained as though she would understand.

Comfort murmured her worries to the little girl who shadowed her as they walked through the house. When they ended their journey in the well-lit and surprisingly cheerful room, Comfort sighed.  “Sally, I’m about to reveal all my flaws and limitations. I don’t know how to cook.”

Sally grinned at Comfort mischievously. Her expression startled Comfort since her new daughter’s smiles were small and infrequent. “Reckon Jacob and his pa will be hungry enough to eat whatever we fix when they get in from all that work.”

Comfort had come prepared to at least look the part of a ranch wife. Dressed in matching aprons, the two women—a five year old and a nervous cook—tackled the meal of eggs and toast. As anticipated, the bread was burnt and blackened on one side and barely brown on the other.

Sally seemed well-pleased with their accomplishment. When Jacob and Hamilton came in for supper, Comfort silently dared her husband to snicker or complain at the plain fare. 

He didn’t bat an eye, wolfing the meal down as he listened to Jacob’s stories of the horse he’d been given to ride.

“Will it carry double?” Sally asked almost anxiously.

“Course he will.” Jacob assured her. “Pa’s got a step stool you can use to reach the stirrups. I can boost you up the rest of the way.”

The children exchanged a look of anticipation. Hamilton beamed when Jacob called him,
Pa,
but cautioned him just the same. “No riding double or otherwise outside the paddock, yet. There’s a lot of territory to cover and until you ride the ranch with me, too many places for you to get lost.”

After supper, Comfort stood in front of the kitchen window doing the dishes and looking out at the silent landscape so different from the town of Eclipse. 

Hamilton ushered the children into the room and said, “You young’uns do the wash-up for your mama. I’m taking her for a walk in the moonlight. I expect to find this kitchen spotless when we come back.” 

“That’s woman’s work,”  Jacob muttered, his face scrunched mutinously.

Hamilton frowned. “Work’s work. You and Sally will have this chore every night. Get used to it.”

Comfort was fascinated by the change in Hamilton. He’d never shown ability with children or interest, other than his attempts to give Comfort her heart’s desire.  Now, he brought out parenting skills from a part of him she’d never known. 

As soon as they were out of the house, Hamilton slid his arms around her shoulders. “You think they’ll do what I said?” 

Comfort was startled by his question. “You doubt it? How do you know just the right thing to do with them? You’ve taken to parenting with an adeptness I admire.”

Hamilton laughed ruefully. “I’m fumbling around in my mind, trying to think of everything my pa made Ambrose and me do when we were kids. We survived. I figure our young’uns will too.”

They reached the barn and he ushered her inside. As soon as they stood in the barn’s shadows, Comfort pulled his head down for a kiss. “I love you Hamilton,” she whispered. 

“Sweetheart,” he said gruffly when their kiss ended. “Hold on to that thought. I’ve got some news to impart.”

“What?” Comfort stared up at him, fear suddenly flooding her. As turbulent as their acquisition of a family had been, the children were now firmly entrenched in her heart and her mind had just begun to wrap around all of the changes their presence had already brought. 

*

Hamilton held Comfort in his arms, savoring the feel of her body pressed against his own.  They were back together. In tune. A strand of hair curled next to her face, softening Comfort’s usual immaculate perfection. 

As though sensing his thoughts, she brushed the stray curl from her face and said apologetically, “I’m a mess. Without Sally’s help, supper would have been even worse.”

“You did fine. You’re smart. It won’t take long for you to figure out the cook-stove.”  He chuckled and kissed her again.

He remembered the news he had to deliver and his stomach clenched apprehensively.

“Jacob and I rode over to Quincy’s place with Alex after we unloaded the furniture. Lucy and Ambrose will be back from Austin for the holidays.”

“That’s wonderful. And?” Comfort asked, smiling at Hamilton. 

He shifted, trying to find the best way to phrase the next part.

“We’re having Thanksgiving here this year. I figured you’d want your sister with us, so I sent word for Charlie and Naomi to come too.” He confessed everything in a rush of words and watched Comfort’s expression change to horror. “We’re having the family dinner? I’m supposed to cook?”

“Yep,” he said quickly.

“Hamilton Quince, what were you thinking? I can barely manage fried eggs and burnt toast. How am I supposed to prepare a turkey and fixings for ten people?” 

“Maybe a few more,” Hamilton mumbled, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “The rest of the McCallisters are coming too.” 

While Comfort remained speechless blinking outrage up at him, Hamilton hastily assured her. “We’ve got a month to get ready. We’ll figure it out.”  

I can do this.
In the past month she’d amazed herself at what she could accomplish. First of all, she’d had to arrange for the store to continue operating without her constant attention.

She’d pinned a
Help Wanted
sign on the Eclipse Community bulletin board and had Marta Carmichael circulate the notice as well. She’d planned on hiring a woman to manage the store, although she didn’t like the idea of a woman lifting and carrying boxes as Comfort had done for years.

She’d ended up employing Mrs. Carmichael’s son Mel, as temporary help. So far it had worked out well and if he managed the holidays successfully, Comfort planned to offer him the job on a permanent basis.

She’d shifted many responsibilities to Mel already and eagerly contemplated shifting more. It had surprised her at first how ready she’d been to step away from the everyday running of the CQ Mercantile.

At the moment other business was on her mind. Comfort stood in the doorway of her kitchen, eyeing the enemy. It was a monster, challenging her in the battle ahead. The cast iron stove Hamilton was so proud of, leered at her, promising her defeat.

“Merciful heavens, I can't do this,” she whimpered aloud.  

“Don’t worry, Mama. We can do it.” Sally took Comfort's hand and squeezed it, reminding her she wasn't alone.

“It doesn't much look like our kitchen at home, does it?”   Sally and Comfort sighed together.  If they were in their Eclipse home, Marta would have the pies waiting on the counter, the turkey ready for roasting, and the side dishes organized for the coming event.

“We need to go to the Mercantile. There are some last minute ingredients I ordered and need to pick up.”  Comfort pulled Sally toward the door as she spoke and grabbed two shawls for them to wear on their way to town.

Hamilton had taken Jacob with him this morning to ride the northern Double-Q fence-line. But he’d left the buggy ready to be hitched and Sally helped her back the horse into the traces and buckle on the harness. On the way to Eclipse, Comfort planned what she needed.

As soon as they arrived, Mel Carmichael met her at the door. “Ma’s got you all fixed up in back, Mrs. Quince.”

“Thank heavens.” Comfort took Sally’s hand and hurried through the store to the backrooms.

Mel followed them, helping customers and straightening merchandise as he walked. Business was more than brisk. It was booming.

For a moment, Comfort felt the intoxicating allure of making money. But her focus shifted quickly to Thanksgiving dinner when she stepped into the backroom and Marta greeted her.

“All set, missy. Russel, carry that box out for Comfort, don’t just stand there.”

Mel had the box in hand before his mother ordered him around like a ten year old, but he smiled agreeably even though the store out front was bedlam.

“Do you need me to stay and help?” As soon as she offered, Comfort regretted her words.

“Nope. Imported my wife to help. She’ll be here soon. Ma’s been running the register some too. Hope that’s okay.”

“Have both Marta and your wife keep their hours and pay them accordingly.” Comfort sighed in relief. Assured the CQ was under control, she began carrying Thanksgiving dinner out to the buggy.

She smiled in anticipation as she inspected the plucked turkey, and the contents of the box of side dishes—sweet potatoes, scalloped corn, creamy butternut squash, and apple soup. Sally carried the unbaked pies and loaves of bread in another container.

“Mind you don’t leave those apple pies in too long and burn the crust. And be sure and bake the bread until it’s done. Nobody wants to eat raw dough.”

Comfort listened and made notes, while her mind considered the last disaster—she had to make the dressing for Thanksgiving. Everything else was taken care of because she'd paid Marta well for the succulent food they carried home.

“I wrote down the recipe and pulled together the ingredients. You can do this, missy. I know you can.”

Comfort looked doubtfully at the box of ingredients; onions, apples, pecans, and eggs as well as a bag of cornmeal.

Marta rattled off directions for making the cornbread while she walked with them to the buggy.

“The turkey’s cleaned, don’t worry about that. But you have to make the dressing up fresh before you stuff it in the fowl for baking. So you’ll have to make the cornbread tonight.”

She broke the news to Comfort as she ticked off the ingredients. She’d included sage, thyme, salt, and pepper to season things, but her “pinch of this” and “dab of that” left Comfort feeling decidedly uneasy. 

Nodding her gratitude, Comfort concentrated on the directions Marta assumed she’d be intelligent enough to follow. I’m doomed. If this concoction has to go in the turkey and the turkey is the main dish, Thanksgiving dinner is in jeopardy.

Marta determinedly giving Comfort advice. “Dampen the stuffing with half a cup of melted butter. Then add the hot water enough to make it moist. Beat an egg with some salt pork, chipped fine and mix that up with the oysters, chestnuts, chopped celery and stoned raisins. Then fill the turkey and put it in the oven to start roasting.”

Comfort’s head was swimming with the directions. Marta shoved a paper at her before she and Sally started back to the ranch. “I wrote it all down for you. Don’t worry, you’ll do fine.”

Once Comfort and Sally were back in the buggy, Comfort said a quick goodbye. “Thank you, Marta. Blessings on you and may your own Thanksgiving be wonderful, tomorrow.”

  Comfort tucked the instructions for cooking everything that needed cooked, in her pocket, and pointed the horse toward home. As they trotted smartly out of town, she waved at the young bounty hunter.

Beau Beauregard crouched next to his pet wolf as he talked to Hiram Potter in front of the sheriff’s office.

Hiram tipped his hat at Comfort and she slowed the buggy to call a greeting their way. “Hiram, Beau—I hope your Thanksgiving is a blessed event.”

“Beau and I will be sharing beans and coffee tomorrow. Best wishes to your family, Comfort,” Sheriff Potter called back.

Comfort’s generosity overtook her common sense. “Don’t be silly. The two of you, come for dinner at our place. I'm sure we can do better than red beans and coffee.  In any event, Hamilton will enjoy visiting with you. Dinner’s mid-day. Don’t be late.”

Her glow of satisfaction ended on the way back to the Double-Q when Sally, who’d been counting on her fingers, said, “You reckon there’ll be enough for all of us? We’ll be sharing food with fifteen, Mama.”

“Oh that can’t be. We’re only cooking for a few…” Her words piddled to a halt as she ran a count in her own head. “Merciful heavens, what have I done?”

* * * * *

  Hamilton held the roasted turkey aloft proudly displaying Comfort's accomplishment before him. As he set the bird on the table, he gazed at the passel of family and friends who’d come to share the day with them.  His throat closed as he was overwhelmed by unexpected emotion.

Lucy and Ambrose had arrived early and helped things unfold smoothly.

“I expect you've had Comfort cooking for days to get ready for this, brother. Alex and Brody are coming along behind us, bringing a few things to add to the feast.” After firing off a few jibes at Hamilton, Lucy joined Comfort in the kitchen.

The McCallisters had arrived in a noisy group, with Charlie escorting his wife, Naomi, and his mother, Rachel, into the ranch house. On the way in, he’d handed Hamilton a jug of apple cider and a bottle of good whiskey. 

Rachel and Naomi weren't much for cooking, but they'd made Comfort a new hooked rug for her kitchen. She'd beamed and taken them back to the room that had been her despair and was fast becoming her joy.

Deacon and Sam McCallister arrived, making it thirteen and then the number grew to fifteen when Hiram Potter and Beau Beauregard showed up.

The dining room was filled with talk and teasing and if the table didn’t groan under the weight of all the food, it was only because it couldn’t be heard over the noise of the guests.

Hamilton had told her not to worry about having enough to feed everyone, and he'd been right. Each family had prepared their own special dishes to add to the feast.

Hamilton pulled Comfort close, caught Jacob as he was chasing Sally around the table, and stood with his arms around his family. 

He cleared his throat nervously, and said, “Welcome to our home. I reckon this is like a christening event, since we've not celebrated the new place before. Thanks for coming today.”

Comfort peered up at him and frowned. “I should have invited the Eclipse minister. You're supposed to say a blessing, now, Hamilton.”

Laughter filled the room, interrupted by the teasing drawl of Beau Beauregard. “Well, as to that...Deacon, here, knows the Good Book, him once bein' a preacher and all.”

All eyes turned expectantly toward the red-haired bounty hunter who stood apart, watching the rest. He gave Beauregard a somber look, but nodded his head and said quietly, “Let us pray.”

They stood, circling the table, hands linked in friendship and love, listening to Deacon's blessing. 

“God bless this bounty—reward and evidence of the toil and struggle of the year past. Keep watch over those among us and lead us in the path of the Lord from this day forth.”

Comfort held Hamilton’s hand and silently added her own final prayer—
And please, God, don’t let my dressing kill anyone this year!