Big Sky Rancher (16 page)

“You've caught on to more than you realize, girl. Tomorrow you're going to make biscuits for breakfast and fry up the bacon. I'll set things up in the dining room and take care of Susan and such.”

“You think I can?” Jennifer asked. “I mean, what if I make a mess of it?”

“You won't. And if you do, it'll be the last time. You'll learn real quick.” Ida grinned. “I take that back. You've already
picked up on everything in a dadblamed hurry. I'll warrant you could put on supper, too, if you set your mind to it.”

“Not yet. Give me a few days.”

“Well, you'd better get into bed yourself, girl. Morning is gonna come real early, you mark my word. We'll need to be up at five. I'll knock on your door.”

“Five?” Jennifer's brow lifted. That did sound pretty early to her ears, but if that was what it would take to make a go of this thing, she'd have an early bedtime and be ready to climb out of bed at five.

 

B
Y THE THIRD DAY
she was ready for bed at dusk, and had no trouble sleeping. In the mornings, she left Buster guarding Susan by the bed when she went downstairs. The cooking was going well, both women sharing the kitchen. Jennifer made beds daily, a chore she had down to a science by the third morning. Ida got out the scrub board that day and began heating water on the big cookstove right after breakfast.

“Bring your dirty clothes down if you want to pay for laundry, gentlemen,” she announced as they left the table. All three men brightened up at that statement.

“Didn't know that was included,” Toby Martin said. “And I'll sure be grateful if I don't have to scrub them out myself.”

“You'll pay an extra dollar,” Ida said cheerfully.

“It's worth it.” Cole Weston was halfway out the dining room door when he tossed the words back over his shoulder. He turned back and faced Ida. “By the way, I heard there's several more men planning on coming by to rent rooms, ladies. They've been askin' us about the food, and this place is the talk of the mine fields.”

He shot a look at Jennifer. “Some of them are taking bets
on whether or not you ladies can handle this.” He grinned, his hands in his pockets. “My money's on you, Miss Jennifer. And you, too, Miss Ida,” he added.

“We'll make it.” Jennifer's words were firm. “Don't forget, if you want a dinner pail to carry with you, there'll be an extra charge. Just let Mrs. Bronson know and we'll start tomorrow packing food for you if you each provide the pail to carry it in.”

“They got some small buckets down at the general store,” Ida said. “Just the right size. All the schoolkids carry them.”

“I'll pay you double the price, if one of you ladies can pick me up a pail today,” Cole said, pulling money from his pocket. The other men followed suit and all three pressed coins into Jennifer's palm with words of thanks.

“Come on. It's time to get to the livery stable and pick up our horses,” Toby said, leading the way out of the dining room and leaving the house by the kitchen door. “Sure wish you had a barn here, ladies.” His tone was wistful as if he dreaded the walk to the corral where the miners's horses were kept at night.

“No barn yet,” Ida said. “We'll have to make a bundle of money first.”

 

W
ITHIN TWO WEEKS
, all the bedrooms were full and inside a month, the ladies were making up a list of gentlemen waiting for a vacancy. Their bank accounts were thriving, Jennifer's little book showing a fine growth weekly, and Ida's half of their profit being added to her already healthy account.

The only fly in the ointment was the news that Kyle was out of jail and had been seen around town. Jennifer hadn't laid eyes on him, though, and felt sure that being at Ida's house
was security enough. Given the fact that they were surrounded by able-bodied men for the nighttime hours, she slept soundly. Perhaps the man had realized his defeat.

One thing was for sure. They needed more help to run this house as it should be, Ida announced early one morning. Saving them the trouble of going out looking for an ambitious soul, a widow lady named Helen Pelfry, who lved near the edge of town, stopped by seeking work. They gladly hired her on to keep house and help with the ever-increasing stacks of laundry the men carted down the stairs twice a week.

Jennifer stretched clotheslines across the yard, between four trees, where they hung countless sheets and shirts and stockings, until they had to increase their supply of clothes-pins from the general store.

She was proud. Their reputation was growing by leaps and bounds and even though some of the men were not as well mannered as she'd have liked and tended to leave their rooms in complete disarray, she soon solved that problem.

One day at the supper table she read from a list she and Ida had composed, designating several forms of behavior as unsuitable for their establishment. The rule regarding using silverware instead of their fingers brought grumbles from two men, but Jennifer's raised brow, and a subtle reminder that the waiting list for rooms was long, soon solved that problem.

Keeping their room in decent order met with groans from three others, and Jennifer held up a hand for silence. “I expect to be able to get in your rooms in order to make the bed in the mornings without tripping over your clothing,” she said. “You each have a basket to keep your soiled things in. Use it.”

There was no more said on that matter, except for Cole Weston, who spoke up without hesitation. “I'm not takin' a chance of bein' booted outta here on my ear, ma'am. I'll do better.”

Since he was not one of the culprits Jennifer and Ida had had in mind when they'd composed the rules, he was granted a smile of conspiracy as Jennifer recognized his subtle support of her edicts. “Thank you, Mr. Weston.”

Her nod and smile were received with a quirk of his lips and he settled down to eat with gusto.

It was that evening that another miner came to the door, just as the supper dishes were being put away. “Ma'am?” He stood politely on the back stoop, looking in at Ida, who'd answered his knock. “I understand y'all are renting rooms and providing meals for some of the miners. Is there room for one more? I'm willing to pay more than the going rate for a clean bed and good food.”

“We're out of space, sir,” Ida told him. “The only way you can get accommodations here is if we start putting two in a room, and that'll fill our dining room to overflowing.”

“Do you suppose you could ask a couple of your boarders if they'd bunk together. Maybe you could give them a cut rate to share a room.”

“Are you willing to share?” Ida was trying her best to be obliging, not willing to turn away a man with money to spend, especially one as clean and well-spoken as this specimen of manhood.

“I'd rather not, ma'am.” His voice softened and he leaned forward a bit. “I snore pretty bad, and I'm afraid most all the fellas know it already. I'd probably have a hard time finding a roommate.”

“What's going on, Ida?” Jennifer approached and the miner smiled and looked at her with interest.

“Gentleman wants to rent a room, if we can get a couple of the other men to share and make room for him.” Ida turned and grinned. “He's willing to pay more than the going rate if we can fit him in.”

“What's your name, sir?” Jennifer asked, in her thoughts already counting his cash.

“Alexander Stone.”

“You're a miner?” Somehow he was too clean to have been grubbing in the dirt all day, she thought.

“Yes, ma'am. I sure am. My partner let me leave early when he found out I was coming to town to find better accommodations than a leaky tent. I stopped at Sally Jo's place and got a bath and shave before I stopped by here.”

No wonder he looked clean. Jennifer thought for a moment. “Let us ask at the breakfast table and see if a couple of the men are willing to share if they can get a break on their fees. Come back tomorrow and we'll let you know. But just don't say anything about it to any of the other men. We already have a long list of those waiting for a vacancy.”

Alexander Stone nodded and stepped down off the stoop, and Jennifer closed the door, then leaned against it. “Wouldn't you think other folks in town would be willing to rent rooms? There's more men with money here than I've ever seen in one place in my life.”

Ida shrugged. “There's a lot of work involved and some women aren't interested in doing any more than they're already obliged to, taking care of their own families.”

“Well, we'll see how it goes.” And somehow, she hoped it would go well, that there would be at least two men willing
to share a room. Mr. Stone seemed to be a gentleman, and heaven above knew they could use a couple more men with the sort of qualities the man appeared to display.

 

H
IS PARTNER RODE UP
to the claim two days later and Lucas stood, his hat brim pulled down to shade his eyes as he caught sight of him. “Any luck?”

Sandy smiled and Lucas thought once more that it had been somewhat like sending a fox into the henhouse, pulling this bit of subterfuge.

“I always do what I set out to,” the man said. “You've got a room on the second floor, number three is painted on the door, and here's how you get into it.” Sandy held out a large key and as Lucas would have snatched it from his hand, Sandy slipped it into his pocket.

“First you pay me the rent for your room for the first month, the money for your laundry being done, and an extra dollar for your dinner being provided every day.”

“You didn't tell her—”

“Hell, no, I didn't tell her I was renting it for you, Luc. You think I'm daft? I'm just wondering what's going to happen when they find out they've been tricked. I'll bet that girl will throw a
hissy fit.
”

“Won't be the first time,” Lucas said dryly. “She's real good at speaking her mind.” He grinned, thinking of Jennifer and the look of surprise she'd wear when he showed up, key in hand, and then moved in, bag and baggage.

“Well, if you change your mind, I'll be glad to move in there myself. Sure did smell good in that kitchen, and that woman of yours is a pretty little thing, isn't she?”

“Don't bother even looking, Sandy. She belongs to me.”

“Funny way to run a marriage if you ask me, Luc. Her in town and you at the farm.”

“Don't worry about it. Things will be back on an even keel before you know it. I've got some plans in the works.”

 

T
HE RIDE
from his mine into town would be wearisome on a daily basis, but the comfortable bed at the end of the trail and the thought of Jennifer's face when she realized who her newest boarder would be made it worthwhile in his sight. Lucas grinned as he rode to the livery stable and made arrangements for his gelding to be fed and kept in a stall overnight each day for the foreseeable future.

“Not a problem,” he was told. His pack was heavy, but he barely noticed the weight as he walked down the street to the big house next to the parsonage. The house where Jennifer and Ida Bronson had set up their business.

The idea of his inept bride cooking for a multitude of men and keeping a three-story house clean was almost funny, he decided. And yet she'd proved to be a ready pupil, according to Ida. Maybe Jen had a knack for cooking and cleaning that had been buried beneath that incapable but impeccable aura she'd exuded from the beginning.

He'd soon find out. Scorning the two steps, he grasped the porch rail and his long legs made short work of the long porch, the swing catching his eye as he scanned the length of the comfortable-looking area. He knocked on the back door, having been told by several of the men that the miners were to use the back door and that leaving their boots in the entryway was a hard and fast rule, one they took to heart. It seemed that hot meals made a man willing to capitulate to the decrees of the ladies in charge of this house.

The door swung open as he was about to repeat his knock and Ida stared into his eyes, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“It's only me, Ida. I'm your new boarder.”

“How? When? Oh, my, Lucas. You're in for a heap of trouble when Jennifer gets a look at you here.”

“I have my room key,” he said, flashing it in front of her. “Also a receipt, signed by Jennifer, for the first month's rent.”

Ida looked at the paper he flourished and shook her head. “This is made out to a fella named Alexander Stone. Last I heard, your name wasn't Stone.”

“He rented it on my behalf, but I've paid him what cash he used for my benefit and the room is mine for a month. I'm sure the sheriff would agree, if he were to be asked his opinion.”

“You may be right there, but I know a young woman who's going to make your life miserable if you move in here. Or else you'll give her such a hard time she'll leave me holding the bag while she makes tracks for New York City. Either way, I'm not going to be happy with the outcome.”

“Don't worry, ma'am. I only want to put my marriage back on an even keel. I want Jen in my life, as my wife.”

“In your life? Or in your bed?” Ida's cheeks burned as she spoke the words without forethought. “Sorry,” she murmured, “I shouldn't have said that.”

Lucas grinned. “I think you've got the whole thing all figured out. Having Jen in my life sorta puts her back in my bed, don't you think?”

“Well, I wouldn't count on that happening right off. She's not real happy with you, Luc.”

He sobered. “I know, but I'm going to fix that.”

Behind Ida, the kitchen door leading to the hallway burst open and Jennifer made her way across the kitchen floor. “I'll talk to him,” she told Mrs. Bronson. “You go ahead with whatever you were doing.”

“Just frying the last pan of chicken. And then you need to be mashing the potatoes and getting the biscuits out of the oven while I make the gravy.” She looked at Luc. “Your wife has become quite a hand at cooking lately.”