Linda Ford (7 page)

But both threatened his peace of mind.

Chapter Four

S
ilence filled the room after Eddie left, as if everyone held their breath to see if he would return. When it appeared he wouldn’t, they waited for the feeling of his presence to depart.

Grady slowly unraveled himself from Linette’s skirts and edged toward the pieces of wood and rocks Eddie had given him. He sat down and sorted them. Soon he played happily, talking to himself. Perhaps before long, Linette thought, the time would come when Grady would again be a happy little boy.

Cassie grunted. Discontent seemed her constant companion.

Linette strove to keep it from affecting her own thoughts, which had been caught in a maelstrom since she practically set the place on fire. Eddie had saved them from a disaster, but the incident had done little to further her quest to prove he needed her.

“I can’t imagine how we are going to survive a winter crammed together like this,” Cassie said.

Linette shook off her worries and looked about. “It’s really quite comfortable.” She could point out that Eddie had the most reason to feel displaced, but Cassie was still too buried in her own grief to see past it. “Let’s fix it up a little.” Hopefully Eddie wouldn’t mind.

“About the only thing that could improve this place is a fire.”

“Don’t even say that.” Linette shuddered. “We came too close to knowing what it would be like.” Thankfully, Eddie had reacted calmly when the pan caught fire. She pressed the back of her burned hand. He had taken care of her in a gentle way that brought a strange tightening in her throat. Even now there was a little jump in her heart rate at the memory. She dismissed her errant thoughts and emotions. She wanted only one thing: a businesslike marriage. No emotional involvement that would rob her of her ability to make choices and decisions on her own. “Where would we live? Out in the cold?”

“There’s the big house.”

Yes, there was the big house. Somehow she doubted Eddie would invite them to share it with him.

“Seems strange to me that he doesn’t suggest we all live there.”

“It’s obviously not finished.” She looked out the window toward the big structure. Snow obscured it, but she remembered the stark bareness of the windows. He’d built it for a special woman. He still hoped Margaret would change her mind and grace his big house with her refined presence. She wouldn’t tell him Margaret had been relieved to let Linette take her place. It had been her idea, not Linette’s as he seemed to think. She shrugged. God had given her a few months in which to prove her worth to Eddie and she meant to make the most of every minute. “I’m happy for a warm place out of the elements. Come help me.” She led the way to the bedroom and knelt before one trunk. “I brought some belongings from home.”

Cassie sank to the edge of the bed. “I expected things to be different.”

Linette had, too. “We’ll make the best of it.” She pulled out two pictures and a quilt Tilly and the maids had made for her. “These will brighten the place.”

Cassie trailed after her as they returned to the main room. Eddie had left the hammer and nails behind and she used those to hang the pictures. She draped the quilt over one chair. “Isn’t that better?”

Cassie shrugged.

Linette refused to let the woman’s indifference dampen her resolve. Brightening up the place was step number one in her plan to make Eddie see her as a beneficial addition to his life. “Cassie, you must know how to prepare meals.”

“You just take the food and cook it.”

“Cassie, I don’t know whether to fry it, bake it or boil it. I didn’t even know what to do with the bacon besides burn it to charcoal.”

The other woman shrugged. “You do now.”

Linette wanted to shake her. “Cassie, if I don’t prove myself capable, Eddie will have no reason to ask me to stay.” She fought the tightness in her jaw that made it difficult to speak. “I simply cannot return to London and marry Lyle Williamson. Will you help me or not?”

Cassie again shrugged. “I guess I could tell you whether to boil, bake or fry something.”

“Good.” She’d hoped for more enthusiasm, but she’d take what she could get.”What can I make for lunch?”

Cassie walked to the shelf, pulled down a number of items and plunked them on the table. “Corn bread, beans and syrup.” Crossing her arms across her chest, she stepped back and nodded toward the table.

“Great.” One step at a time. With Cassie’s help—no matter how reluctant—Linette would conquer this challenge. “Now tell me how to make corn bread and cook the beans.”

* * *

The men joined Eddie in the barn. He sent two to care for the breeding stock he had in the wintering pens. Slim and Roper hung back.

“The ladies settled okay, boss?” Slim’s voice was bland as if he was making idle conversation.

“Seems so.” Eddie acted as if he didn’t know the men were burning up with curiosity. Had they seen the smoking fry pan he’d tossed into the snowbank? Even if they hadn’t, they must have smelled the blackened bacon left behind. He tucked away a smile at Linette’s incompetence. It tickled him to think of her practically setting the place on fire in her determination to prove herself a pioneer woman. Seems she’d be better off trying for the position of manor wife. His smile died a sudden death as he realized where his thoughts had gone. No Edwards’ woman belonged in the big house.

Roper paused from putting hay in the mangers and scratched his head. “They here to stay?”

“Only for the winter.”

“Yeah? Then what?”

“Back to wherever they came from.” Eddie jabbed his fork after some horse apples.

“Country could use some fine women.” Slim hovered over a gate, seemingly interested in one of its hinges.

“Suppose so but not at my expense.”

“Huh.” Both men grunted out the sound.

The three of them returned to their chores. Silences were common when they worked, but this one carried a thousand unasked questions. Eddie paused. “I’ll finish up here if you two want to go back to the bunkhouse or up to the cookhouse.”

“Yeah, boss.”

They sauntered out, none too anxious to be sent elsewhere. They closed the door against the snow. Silence filled the room for a moment then Eddie chuckled. They’d hoped for more information. His smile flattened. What could he tell them? That Cassie hated life and Grady hated men? On top of it, Linette couldn’t cook. His stomach burned. There was an old trapper’s cabin up along the river. Crude. Probably full of bedbugs. You could throw a cat through the cracks between the logs and last time he’d seen it, a corner of the roof had been ripped back. Likely by curious bears. But it held all the appeal of the finest stopping house. Maybe when the storm let up he’d hole up there for the winter.

Except he had a duty and responsibility making sure the cattle were safe and the ranch ran efficiently. He couldn’t walk away.

His stomach growled. He shoveled out the rest of the pens, swept the tack room, tidied the harnesses, noted those that needed mending and generally lingered until the growing demands of his stomach made it impossible to continue hiding in the barn. Even cold potatoes would taste good.

He tromped back through the deepening snow, paused outside the door to accustom himself to the intruders before he stepped inside.

The aroma of beans, hot bread of some sort and coffee caused his mouth to flood with saliva. Had Linette suddenly learned how to cook?

He glanced about. Why did the place seem warm and welcoming? Something was different, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

“I’m hungry.” He hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, but it was too late to pull back his hasty words.

“Dinner is ready.” Linette stood at the end of the table, her hands clasped together at her waist. “There’s hot water in the kettle.”

He washed up then took his place at the table where the others waited. Linette still stood. He raised an eyebrow. “Shall I say the blessing?”

“Of course.” She dropped to the chair and bowed her head.

Eddie studied her a moment. Did she seem tense? Had she smiled since he stepped into the house? He couldn’t remember. And why did it matter? Except it did. A man liked to find peace in his home. And as he’d said to Cookie, Linette had a pleasant smile. He forced himself to add the comment he’d tacked on for Cookie. Matched by a stubborn attitude. He bowed his head and scraped together a sense of gratitude so he could pray genuine words of thanks.

As soon as he said “Amen,” Linette passed him a pan of corn bread. He dug out a generous portion, doused it with beans and syrup and lifted a forkful toward his mouth, when he realized Linette watched him. He lowered the fork. “Is something wrong?”

She laughed a little. “No, just waiting to see if you like the food.”

He filled his mouth, chewed once then nodded. “It’s good.”

She sank deeper into her chair. The corners of her mouth lifted as if her smile came from somewhere deep in her heart.

But the second chew revised his opinion. The beans were hard pellets. He crunched bravely, hoping he wouldn’t break a tooth.

She concentrated on chewing. “Are the beans supposed to be this hard?” She looked to Cassie for an answer.

Cassie shrugged. “Guess they should have cooked longer.”

Eddie eyed the generous portion of beans on his plate. But after another heroic mouthful he scraped them to one side. “Cook them overnight. They’ll be fine in the morning.”

Suddenly the corn bread and syrup seemed far from adequate. If this kept up he’d have no choice but to throw himself on Cookie’s mercy.

“I’ll do better.” Linette’s words rang with determination. “Like I said, I’m a fast learner.” Her gaze caught and held his, silently reminding him of other things she’d said.
A long time till spring. He might grow to appreciate her company.

The words taunted him. Mocked him. He pushed from the table. Snow still fell heavily, but he must find something to do elsewhere. He grabbed his coat and left the cabin to trudge through the deepening snow to the barn. Apart from sweeping the floor again, there was nothing to do.

He considered going to the bunkhouse where the men would be gathered around the stove fixing their boots or at the table playing cards. They would welcome him, but it encroached on their spare time. He longed to go to the cookhouse and fill up on Cookie’s baking, but she wouldn’t give him a moment’s peace. She’d demand to know why he wasn’t entertaining those fine ladies while he had the chance. Even if he repeated a thousand times over that he wasn’t interested in whether or not they were fine women and that he was starving, she’d never hear a word contrary to her opinion.

He stepped outside, pulled his woolen scarf around his neck and headed for the wintering pens.

Snow swirled about him, clinging to his eyelashes. The herd pressed against the wooden fences, seeking shelter. They stirred at his approach. The men had put out sufficient feed. All he accomplished by poking around was to unsettle the animals.

He retraced his steps toward the buildings. The house on the hill was barely discernible. If it didn’t mean starting a fire to warm the place, he would go there even though it required marching through snow up to his knees.

His steps slowed. There was only one place for him. Back at the cabin. He squinted as he realized there was something he needed to do. No time like the present.

He reached the cabin door, stomped snow from his boots and shook it from his hat before he stepped indoors.

The room radiated warmth. He glanced about. Yes, there was a fire blazing in the small stove, but it was more. He still couldn’t put his finger on it.

Cassie sat before the stove with yarn and knitting needles. Linette stood at the table chopping something and dropping the pieces into a cooking pot. He sniffed. Onions maybe.

Grady played under the table. He’d fashioned a fence of kindling and arranged the rocks and bits of wood like animals in a pen.

He chuckled. “Grady, that’s how I used to play.”

Grady shrank back trying to get out of sight.

Eddie didn’t take offense. The child would need time to learn Eddie intended to be his friend.

Linette grabbed a cup from the shelf. “Coffee? Something to eat?”

“Coffee sounds good. Thanks.”

She filled the cup and sat it before him.

“No one else is having coffee?” he asked.

Linette and Cassie exchanged glances. Cassie ducked her head, suddenly very interested in her knitting. Linette grabbed a carrot and butchered the thing, scooting the pieces into the pot. “We’ve had tea already, but I assumed you preferred coffee.”

“Having no doubt read about the huge pots of coffee the cowboys drink while on cattle drives.” His words, softly spoken, sounded dry and humorless even to himself.

Cassie snorted. “I’ll venture a guess she knows more about cowboys than you.”

Linette’s gaze grew dark. “Of course I don’t. But I did learn a lot.” She looked past Eddie. If he didn’t miss his guess, she looked past the walls of this cabin. “If I were a man I’d join a cattle drive.” Slowly, as if realizing Eddie stared at her, she brought her attention back to the room. “Can I offer you a tea biscuit?”

“Thanks.” He hoped she had a large plateful. “I kind of like tea especially on a cold wintry day.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” She bustled to the stove and shook the kettle, then poured in more water and moved it to the center of the stove. “I can make you tea, if you prefer it.”

“Coffee will do this time. But in future wait for me and we’ll have tea together.” Now, why had he said that? It wasn’t as if he planned to stop his work every afternoon to join them for a cup of tea and a friendly chat. No, sir. He intended to stay as far away from this place as humanly possible.

The women again exchanged looks. He couldn’t begin to guess what silent signal they sent each other. Maybe they preferred to have their tea without his company.

“Unless that interferes with your plans?”

“Of course not. I’d be glad to make tea for you.”

He noticed Linette did not include Cassie in her welcome. But it didn’t matter. It was his house; he was the host, they the guests. Something they all needed to remember.