Linda Ford (8 page)

The woman shuffled to the stove, groaning with every step. Her swollen feet looked very uncomfortable. She lifted the lid on the pot. “Guess this will have to do.” And she claimed one of the clean bowls, without a word of thanks for the fact that it had been washed, and filled it with the mixture. “’Twas a time I made decent meals around here before my heart started acting up and rendered me useless.” She scowled at Rebecca. “My mother did her duty in teaching me to be a good housewife.” She grabbed the back of a chair for support as she turned toward the sitting room.

Rebecca stared. She’d been about to empty the pot into the slop bucket, but apparently it was dinner.

At that moment, Colton strode into the kitchen. “Ma, let me do that.” He tossed his hat at the wall, where it missed the hook and fell to the floor amid a collection of boots and harnesses. He eased the bowl from his mother’s hands and guided her back to the other room.

Out of sight, his ma heaved a huge sigh. “If you’re going to bring home a girl, least you could do is find one who knows her way around a kitchen.”

Colton chuckled. “Ma, she’s a fast learner.”

“Well, I’m not up to teaching her, and seems to me you have plenty enough to do already.”

Heidi nudged Rebecca. “It’s okay, Miss Sterling. I’ll help you.”

Rebecca nodded. Humbling as it was to have to depend on a ten-year-old for instruction, she was grateful for the offer. She leaned over to whisper to Heidi, “What’s in that pot?”

Heidi lifted the lid and sniffed. She took a spoon and tasted. “Think it’s cream of vegetable soup. Here, have a taste.” She held out a spoonful to Rebecca.

She had to pretend she didn’t find the mixture off-putting and tasted it. Surprisingly, it was savory, with chunks of potatoes and carrots. “Not bad.”

“Not bad!”

Neither of them had heard Colton return. Heidi dropped the lid back on the pot with a crash and hurried to Rebecca’s side. Rebecca choked back annoyance and alarm. At the same time, she told herself it was his house and he could come and go as he pleased.

He crossed to the stove, grabbed another bowl and filled it. “I’ll have you know I made that soup and I’m not a half-bad cook.”

Rebecca couldn’t contain her sense of mischief. “We’ve seen the bad half. Where’s the good half?”

From the other room came a snort that she knew was Mr. Hayes trying to stifle his amusement.

Colton leaned close and lowered his voice so it wouldn’t be heard in the other room. “You’ll soon discover it isn’t as easy as you might think.” He took the bowl to his father.

“Son, we have company. Shouldn’t you offer them dinner, as well?”

Rebecca wondered if they had to go all day without eating, then recalled that the noon meal was called dinner. The evening meal was supper.

Colton returned to the kitchen. “Pa says to join them for dinner. Go ahead. I’ll bring the soup.” He grabbed three more bowls and began to fill them.

“I’ll help.” She’d have preferred to sit in the kitchen with only Heidi to share the meal, but there was no gracious way to turn down the invitation.

Colton looked about ready to refuse, then handed her a bowl full of soup and led the way back to the other room.

When she saw the look on Mrs. Hayes’s face, Rebecca almost turned back. The invitation issued by Mr. Hayes plainly was not echoed by his wife.

Colton pushed aside a stack of papers and put down bowls for himself and Heidi. He tipped two chairs to dump their contents on the floor, then shoved them toward the table. “Haven’t had time to clean lately, but we get by.”

* * *

Colton looked around the room. It showed signs of being overused and undercared for. He never seemed to have time to do everything. And Ma didn’t like him disturbing her things.

Ma’s knitting was piled in a basket by the cot. She hadn’t touched it in quite a while. She had a stack of books she kept nearby. Bookmarks stuck out that never seemed to move.

When had a bit and reins made their way to the room?

Pa said grace and they ate the soup. No one made a comment until they finished.

“He does the best he can,” Ma said.

He had long ago chosen not to take offense at the way she voiced her praise—more criticism than approval—but he wished she were a little more positive in front of Rebecca. He knew how poor his meal was, but cooking took time.

“We’d starve without him,” Pa said.

Ma scowled. “It isn’t like I don’t know how to cook.”

Pa waved his hand in a calming way. “I know that, Estelle. But you aren’t well. You need to rest.”

“I wish I didn’t.”

“Wishing is for children,” he said.

Ma gave Rebecca a frown-laced look. “Do you know how to cook?”

“I’ll learn.” She sat with her hands folded on her lap, her expression revealing nothing. But Colton felt the power of her determination. By the set of her shoulders, he suspected she hid anger.

This arrangement seemed destined to fail. Ma was opposed to the idea. Rebecca was clearly uncertain about what to do. Heidi looked ready to run for the hills.

The walls closed in on him and he jerked to his feet. His first thought was to escape to the barn, go for a long, hard ride, dig a well, climb the hill behind the house, plow a field...anything but stay in the house with the air crackling with tension.

A cry shattered the tension, reminding him why he had to make this work. “I’ll get him.”

“I’ll feed him.” Rebecca grabbed her bowl and headed for the kitchen with Heidi on her heels.

Ma cleared her throat. “Can’t she manage on her own?”

“She certainly can.” Colton would not follow them, lest his ma think it proved she couldn’t. He gathered up the rest of the dirty dishes. He’d take them to the kitchen later.

Then he grabbed the stacks of papers, planning to burn them. The bit and reins he tossed toward the door. He’d take them to the barn next time he went out.

Ma fluttered her hand. “Stop fussing. It makes me tired.” She settled back against the pillows with a heavy sigh.

Colton hurried over to help put her feet up. “Look how swollen your legs are,” he murmured. “You’ve had them down far too long.”

“Leave me be. I’m too tired to listen.” She labored over her breathing.

He pulled a gray knitted blanket over her, one she’d made before her health began to fail.

He heard Rebecca murmuring to the baby in the other room and longed to join them and watch the baby eat.

But Ma and Pa were his life. His responsibility. There was room for nothing more. And if he ever considered otherwise, Ma would soon enough set him straight.

As if reading his mind, she touched his hand. “We won’t live forever. Then you’ll be free to do as you please. But promise me one thing.” She waited for his promise.

“Ma, you’re not dying. Neither of you.” Though they were more elderly than many parents with sons and daughters his age. Colton had been born late in their lives, a special gift from God, they used to say. How long was it since they’d said that? Did they still feel that way? He shook his head. Of course they loved him. And he loved them. They needed him. It was as simple as that.

“Promise me.” Ma’s words brought him back to the current situation.

“If it’s possible. You know that.”

“Promise me you won’t marry unwisely.” She shot a glance toward the kitchen. “You need a good farm girl as a wife.”

“Marriage is the last thing on my mind.” He could honestly say that. Marriage had no place in his plans. Not that he hadn’t thought of it, but Ma and Pa were a full load. Not one a new bride should have to take on. And even if he found someone who said she would, he wouldn’t ask it of her. No, marriage while his parents needed him was out of the question. After all, he owed it to them.

In the kitchen, Rebecca and Heidi laughed. Had the baby done something cute? He wanted to see for himself.

“I’ll take the dishes to the kitchen.”

“Let that woman wash them,” Ma said. “That was your agreement.”

He didn’t reply. What was the point? Rebecca glanced up as he stepped into the kitchen. Heidi ducked behind her.

“Is he doing okay?” He tipped his head toward the baby.

She considered him briefly before she answered, “He looks fine to me, but I have had no experience with babies.”

He guessed from the guarded tone of her voice that she had overhead Ma. Not that Ma made any attempt to hide the fact that she didn’t think a city girl belonged here. Nor had he deceived himself into thinking otherwise. Rebecca was only here in his home because he’d given her little choice. Still, he tried to think how to erase the power of Ma’s words. What could he say to apologize for them that didn’t make it sound as if he actually put some stock in those harsh words? Nothing came to mind.

So instead he dumped out the dirty dishwater and stacked the dishes in the pan.

“What are you doing?” Her soft voice carried a trace of warning.

“Washing dishes?” Somehow he knew that was the wrong answer.

“I believe our agreement was for me to take care of the house in order for you to take care of the orphanage.”

“But I can’t do anything until the supplies arrive.”

“An agreement is an agreement.”

“Rebecca, she didn’t mean—”

“I am perfectly capable.” The brittleness in her eyes stopped any attempt at an explanation.

“Fine. I have fences to fix. I’ll be back for supper. There are pork chops in the icebox.” He fled the room, taking the reins and bit with him. If she wanted everything to be cut-and-dried, marked with indelible ink, that was the way it would be.

Chapter Seven

T
he next morning, Rebecca tiptoed into the kitchen, carrying Gabriel in his basket. No one else appeared to be up yet. Good. That gave her a chance to make breakfast.

Gabriel had kept her awake most of the night. She’d fed him. She’d bounced him. Rocked him. Walked him. Patted his tummy. Nothing worked. She obviously failed at caring for a baby. He slept now, but for how long she couldn’t guess. While he slept, she meant to fulfill her part of this awkward agreement.

Thankfully, Heidi had slept through the crying and still slept peacefully.

She’d managed a fair supper last night, with Heidi’s help. Now she faced the kitchen on her own. Mrs. Hayes’s continued disapproval touched a tender nerve. She’d failed at home and now she failed here. But only if she accepted defeat.

And she wasn’t about to do that.

She’d had plenty of time during the night to consider what she’d make for breakfast.

The stove was cold. As she’d seen Colton do, she lifted the lid to stir the ashes, but they were stone-cold. Never mind. She’d watched Holly start a fire. She could do it. A few minutes later, she struck a match and set it to the paper and wood she’d placed inside. The flames flared. The wood began to burn. Good. She put the lid on and turned to the icebox, where she’d seen eggs. Five people. Five eggs. She put them in a pot, covered them with water and set it on the stove.

A twist of smoke came from around the lid. Must be something wrong with the wood. The smoke grew thicker. Coughing and waving a towel, she opened a window, then turned her attention to the loaf of bread. Toast fingers with a bit of honey would complete the meal.

The smoke got even thicker, stinging her eyes. What was wrong? She lifted the lid to check and flames erupted. She flicked the tea towel at them, but that only fanned them higher. She ducked back, shielding her face from the heat.

Flames licked up the towel toward her hand. Stifling a scream, she dropped the towel and jerked her skirts away before they caught on fire. The flames roared, licked toward her. A terrifying beast. She edged away as the beast taunted her.

A chair jabbed her back, stopping her escape. She sucked in air. Was she going to burn the house down around them? Was this how Heidi felt as she escaped a burning building?
Dear God, help me.

Think. Think. Put the fire out. Water.
She needed water and grabbed the bucket. The biggest fire was in the stove and she swung the bucket back to toss the contents on the flames.

But something held the bucket. She jerked. It jerked back. She spun away from the mesmerizing, terrifying flames and came face-to-face with Colton. She released the bucket.

“Are you trying to burn the place down?” He stomped out the flames of the burning towel. “You never throw water on a hot stove. You’d likely crack something.” He adjusted something on the top of the stove, then grabbed a rag and stuck the lid in place. The flaming monster disappeared. “You had the damper closed.”

He faced her, anger darkening his eyes to the color of deep, still water. “What were you thinking?”

Her mouth too dry to even swallow, her tongue wooden and stiff, she couldn’t answer.

He grabbed her shoulders and gave a little shake. “You could have burned us to death in our sleep.”

She nodded. Her eyes felt too wide, her cheeks stiff. “I—” The word was a pitiful croak that threatened to turn into a wail. She would not cry. She would not. But a shudder snaked up her spine and rattled loose her self-control. She blinked hard, but the tears won, streaming down her face.

Colton groaned and pulled her to his chest. “Don’t cry. I’m not angry. Just scared.” He patted her back.

A thousand emotions rose up and threatened her. Jilted. Rejected. Never quite meeting expectations. A complete idiot on a farm. She fought for control, but a sob tore up her throat. She was powerless to contain it. She dare not let her emotions rule. She feared their power if she ever released them. But another sob shook her.

“It’s not that bad,” Colton soothed. “No real harm was done.”

His words and touch eased the power of her emotions. She clung to his shirtfront, her fingers buried in the fabric. When had she ever felt so sheltered, protected?

Suddenly his arms loosened and he dropped them to his sides. “Hi, Ma.”

“What is going on?”

After one glance at the woman’s harsh expression, Rebecca kept her attention on the remnants of the burned towel on the floor. Would the dark spot wash off or would it remain forever as a mocking reminder of her incompetence?

“Ma, it’s nothing. A tea towel caught fire is all.”

Mrs. Hayes shuffled around, saw the evidence. “That girl is going to be the death of us.” She glanced at the stove. “Your pa will be up wanting his coffee.”

“I’ll make it immediately.” Colton sprang into action as his mother limped to the sitting room.

Rebecca went to get the broom and dustpan. That was when she saw Heidi hovering by the door, her eyes as wide as twin moons. “Heidi?”

The child blinked, but her gaze never faltered as she stared at the stove.

Had she seen the flames? If so, Rebecca couldn’t begin to imagine how terrified she must be. She moved closer and reached for the child, but Heidi wheeled around and raced away through the sitting room.

“She’s been spooked by the fire.” Mrs. Hayes’s tone clearly accused Rebecca of deliberately frightening Heidi.

Rebecca ignored the woman and dashed after Heidi. The girl lay facedown on the bed. Rebecca expected crying, but Heidi lay stiff and motionless.

Rebecca sat beside her, touched her shoulder. “Heidi?”

Heidi shrank away.

“Honey, I was careless with the fire.” Her inexperience had almost exacted a terrible price. “But Colton quickly put it to rights.” She waited for a reaction from Heidi, but she saw no indication that the child even heard. “I’m sorry it reminded you of something so frightening.” Still nothing. Rebecca offered up a silent prayer for help. “I can’t imagine how scared you must have been. I was so scared I couldn’t think.” Even too scared to act. Her hands still shook. Her insides felt like a flock of nervous moths.

Heidi shifted, keeping her back to Rebecca. Slowly she pushed herself up to a sitting position. “I’m okay.” She stood, brushed her skirts smooth and headed for the door.

Rebecca watched her. She wasn’t okay. And Rebecca was to blame. Even her good intentions failed to live up to what she wanted to achieve.

She followed Heidi.

Mr. Hayes was in the sitting room. He watched Heidi then turned to Rebecca. “Are you okay? Is she?”

“We’re fine.” But she wondered if she would ever be fine.

Mrs. Hayes barely waited for her to step out of sight before she spoke. “I don’t know how Colton expects us to deal with her incompetence.”

Rebecca gritted her teeth. She’d escaped Miss Ward by agreeing to come to the ranch. Seemed she’d jumped from the frying pan into the fire. A hot, scalding fire. One that Colton couldn’t put out.

Heidi sat cross-legged on the floor by Gabriel’s basket.

Colton stood at the stove and fried some kind of meat. The eggs had been pushed aside. He studied her for a heartbeat. Two. Until she could feel her pulse thrumming in her cheekbones. “She doesn’t mean to be unkind.”

He meant his mother. Rebecca wondered if that was true, but wasn’t about to argue.

“It’s hard for her not to be able to do all the things she used to. It makes her feel inadequate.”

That was a sentiment Rebecca could identify with and vowed to show the woman more understanding. “Has she seen a doctor?”

“Dr. Simpson says he knows of nothing more to do for her.”

“I wonder—” But she went no further. No point in stirring up false hope, but she would write her father, describing the woman’s symptoms, and ask if his physician could help.

“You can watch the meat while I fry leftover potatoes.”

He handed her a fork and she stared at the pan, wondering why she needed a fork to watch it.

He leaned close to whisper in her ear, “Turn it to keep it from burning.”

Startled by his breath against her ear, she gripped the fork and couldn’t move.

He gently pried the utensil from her clenched fingers.

His fingers against hers sent her nerves into full alert. She summoned every bit of self-control to keep from jerking back.

He flipped over a couple of strips of meat. “Got it?” He held the fork toward her.

She took it. “I think I can handle the job.”

“I’m quite sure you can. If only to prove something. Though I’m not sure what it is you feel you have to prove or who you intend to prove it to.”

She gave him what she hoped would be construed as an innocent smile and said nothing. It wasn’t any of his concern. He had no idea what her upbringing had been like. Not until recently had she questioned it herself.

A few minutes later they sat at the table and shared breakfast with the others. Heidi sat silent throughout the meal.

As soon as they finished, Colton bolted to his feet. “I haven’t done the morning chores.” He rushed from the room.

Her heart heavy in her chest, she watched him go. She felt alone with him gone. Nonsense, she told herself. She tucked her chin, gathered up the dirty dishes and escaped to the kitchen. Gabriel started to fuss and she prepared a bottle.

“Heidi, would you pick him up, please?” Maybe the baby could comfort Heidi when nothing else seemed to.

In a few minutes Heidi started talking to the baby, saying how cute and sweet he was. Then her talk shifted. “Did you smell the smoke?”

Gabriel snuffled.

“You’re okay,” Heidi said, her voice growing stronger. “You’re safe. We’ll take care of you.”

“Do you want to feed him?”

The little girl took the bottle and sat cuddling the baby as he ate.

The baby settled back to sleep as soon as he was finished, and with Heidi’s help Rebecca washed dishes, cleaned cupboards, swept and scrubbed the wooden floor. She scrubbed the blackened spot until her knuckles hurt, but the stain wouldn’t go away.

She sat back on her heels and studied the dark reminder of her failure. She stared at her hands. Wouldn’t her mother be alarmed to see their condition?

With a deep sigh, she came to a firm conclusion.

She did not fit in here. It had been foolish to think she could. Her pride had almost resulted in a disaster. She watched Heidi sitting by the baby basket. Her actions had pulled the scab off Heidi’s inner wound.

“Heidi, honey, will you watch the baby while I tend to something in the bedroom?”

She hurried past Mrs. Hayes snoring on the cot and Mr. Hayes with his head back in his rocking chair.

She packed enough things for an overnight stay. She would send for the rest later. For now, she wanted to avoid an argument with Colton.

A few minutes later he drove to the house in the buggy.

She went outside to speak to him. “I’d like to go to town with you today.”

His gaze slid past her to the house.

“I know you thought I would remain here and take care of the house and your parents.” Though his mother didn’t exactly welcome her help. “But there’s something I need to take care of.”

He leaned back.

She realized that he was waiting for her to explain. “It’s personal.” She knew her cheeks were flaring pink at how he might take it.

He coughed. “Of course. How long will it take to get ready?”

“Not long.” She returned to the house and announced that she would accompany Colton to town for the day.

Again she murmured something about personal business and even Mrs. Hayes looked uncomfortable and didn’t press the matter except to say, “I can’t look after the children.”

“I plan to take them with me.”

The baby slept peacefully. Why couldn’t he be that content in the night?

“Colton makes dinner before he leaves us,” Mrs. Hayes said. Her message was clear. Rebecca should do it.

“I can make something if you tell me what you want.” And how to do it.

“I’ll help.” Heidi sprang to her side.

She wanted to hug the child, who understood how much assistance Rebecca needed and offered it without judgment.

“Cheese sandwiches will be fine.”

Rebecca and Heidi made the sandwiches, making enough for those going to town to have for dinner, as well. “Shall I trim the crusts?”

Mrs. Hayes snorted. “I’m still capable of chewing, thanks all the same.”

“We can manage everything else,” Mr. Hayes said, his tone soothing.

More and more, Rebecca appreciated the older man’s gentleness. Colton was a lot like him. He’d grow even more gentle and kind as he aged.

What did she care what he would be like when he got old? She wouldn’t ever see it. She had come west to do a job. Living at the ranch was meant to achieve that purpose, but it simply wasn’t working.

She took the baby and her packed bag outside and they were soon on their way to town.

“Did you sleep okay?” Colton asked. “The bed wasn’t too hard?”

“It was fine, thank you.” She would not complain and give him any more reason to think she was spoiled.

“The baby cried a lot,” Heidi said.

Rebecca felt Colton’s gaze on her, but she looked straight ahead as if something on the trail demanded her complete attention.

Finally, he spoke. “That would explain the shadows under your eyes.”

“I could pretend to be offended, but frankly, I haven’t the energy.”

“You should have said something. You could have stayed home and rested.”

“Don’t be offended, but I feel like I need to remind everyone constantly that I can do what I came to do.”

“Hmm. Interesting. Why should you need to?”

Why indeed? “Because no one expects me to be able to do anything useful.”

They rode on in silence for several minutes until Colton spoke.

“But you want to help and you’re willing to learn.”

She tried to decide if she should see his words as a compliment or a reinforcement of his perception of her as a rich, city girl. She sighed. “I’m too tired to argue.”

He chuckled. “Good, because I didn’t intend to start an argument.”