Weathered Too Young (28 page)

He took a deep breath and continued, “And he didn’t hire you to work yourself to death. So wipe that hurt puppy dog look off yer face
…
’cause you know what I mean.”
He raked a hand through his hair.
“I mean, I’m plum whipped…so I know how tired you have to be.
I ain’t had a good night’s sleep since Katherine and the children arrived
,
and I ain’t cookin’ and cleanin’ up after them.”

Lark understood then, and her heart warmed.
He was genuinely concerned for her.
She still didn’t recognize why he was so adamant she understand that it was Tom who hired her and not him, but she did understand why he was so concerned.
Slater was tired—worn through with caring for little Charlie through the night.

“You have to make Charlie sleep in his own bed, Slater,” she told him.

Slater shook his head.
“I can’t do it
. H
e’s awful fearful at night,” he said. “Probably has somethin’ to do with his daddy bein’ gone.
I just can’t tell him no.”

“Then send him in to me,” she suggested.
“I’m sure I can settle him down.”

He grinned, and she knew mischief was in his mind.
“How about he sleeps in my bed
,
and
I
run on down to yours?” he teased.

Lark couldn’t help but smile, delighted by his flirting—inappropriate though it was.
“I’m serious,” she said.

“So am I,” he chuckled.

“You’ve got to make him stay with Johnny,” Lark said.
“You work too hard to miss your sleep.
Wake me up if he does it again.
Wake me up
,
and I’ll help you put him back to bed.”
She lowered her eyes a moment.
“I know you don’t want to worry
Katie
.”

“I don’t want to worry Kate,” he admitted.
“But I don’t want you havin’ one more thing to do neither.”

Lark sighed.
“Is he in your bed now?” she asked.

“Yep.
Sprawled out like a hound on a hot summer day,” he yawned, covering his mouth with one hand.

Lark glanced to the clock on the wall.

“Will he wake up if you move him?”

“Oh yeah,” he assured her.

“Well, you’ve got two hours before you and Tom need to be out breaking the ice in the water troughs, right?”

“We ain’t doin’ it this mornin’,” he told her.
“The boys are gonna do it before they head into town for their Thanksgiving invitations.”

“Well, then…you can take my bed,” she said.

Slater grinned.
“You gonna be in it too?” he teased.

“Of course not,” she scolded with a giggle.
“I have so many things to get started
. J
ust let me get changed into my dress
,
and you can sleep in my bed for a few hours.”
He grinned at her, but she moved past him and toward her room.
“You’ll be an old bear all day if you don’t get some sleep…and I won’t have you ruining Thanksgiving for the children.”

“What kind of a man goes to bed and leaves a woman to doin’ all the work?” he asked as he followed her.

Lark stepped into her room and began to close the door.

“A man who’s going to let the woman take a nice long nap once the meal is over,” she told him.
“Now you wait here
.
I’ll only be a minute.”

Closing the door behind her, Lark giggled, delighted by Slater’s playful attention.
Suddenly, the day promised to be even more magical than before.

Dressing quickly, she opened her door to find Slater standing outside it, propped up against one wall.
He did look weary—and she loved him all the more for his patience with Charlie.

“Now, you sleep as long as you can,” she told him, taking his hand and leading him to her bed.
“Remember…I don’t want you being ornery and spoiling the day for the children.”

He grinned and began unfastening his trousers.
“You sure you don’t want to stay a
while?” he teased.

“You sure you don’t want me to slap you?” she giggled.
“Now go to sleep.
I want this to be a wonderful day…for everyone.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled.

“Rest well, Slater,” she told
him
, hurrying out of the room.
As she closed the door behind her, she heard him moan as he lay down in her bed.
She smiled as she entered the kitchen to begin the rest of the preparations for the day—for how delicious would it be to sleep in her bed once Slater
had been there?
She wondered if
her pillow might smell of leather and wind.
She hoped it would.



Everything about the day was blissful
—t
he meal, the company, the conversation
,
the delight in knowing Slater and Tom had abandoned any chore that could go with abandoning and that Katherine and her children were not alone.
The turkey was moist, the stuffing delicious
.
T
here w
ere
crisp vegetables and
warm bread.
In the e
vening, Lark served more pumpkin pie and fresh whipped cream
,
and all through the day there was warmth—wonderful, comforting warmth!
Lark had never known a Thanksgiving so marvelous
.
Not only had the food been delicious—with everyone commenting how they’d never had such a good meal—it seemed every soul in the Evans
es
’ ranch house was merry.

Soon the sun was setting
,
and everyone sat in the parlor in happy conversation and company.
Lark was completely fatigued
,
having not wanted to rest after the meal
,
for there was too much delight to enjoy.
Now she lingered with the others, listening as Slater, Tom
,
and Katherine reminisced of Thanksgivings past.

The wind blew outside their cozy haven
,
blowing the flurrying snow into soft drifts. Still, the fire and parlor conversation were comforting, and Lark soon found difficulty in keeping her eyes open.
The thick measure of contentment washing over her lulled her like a rocking cradle
,
and she began to drift in and out of sleep.
Katherine was giggling
,
telling the children about a Thanksgiving past when the turkey had caught flame in the oven.
Slater and Tom chuckled at the memory as well
,
and the sound soothed Lark.
She owned very few fond memories of Thanksgiving.
Thus, she enjoyed hearing the tales of family and mischief told by Slater, Tom
,
and Katherine.
Naturally, it was Slater’s voice she enjoyed most.
The deep, rich flavor of it caused her mouth to water—and visions of being in his arms began to dance in her weary mind.



“She wore herself out,” Slater said.
It seemed as though he w
ere
somewhere in the distance, however.
“I told you she would.
And she never did l
ie
down for a little rest.
Makes me feel like a lazy ol’ hound.”

Lark felt numb—nearly intoxicated—though she had the slight sensation of being lifted and carried.

“You boys let her work too hard,” Katherine said from somewhere.
“And at least take her boots off, Slater.
For pity’s sake!”

“Sleep?” Lark breathed as she forced her eyes to open a moment.
It was Slater’s face she saw
,
and she gasped, realizing she was in his arms—that he was setting her gently onto her bed.

“Don’t worry,” he mumbled, grinning at her as she sat up
,
suddenly alert. “I ain’t stayin’…at least not this time.”

“Slater Evans!” Katherine scolded.
Tom chuckled, however, winking at Lark.
“Now, you just get some rest,” Katherine said. “It’s been a long day…and you’ve worked far too hard since we’ve been here.”

“Oh no! I’m fine! Really!” Lark argued.
She was weary—near the edge of collapse—but she could not fail in her responsibilities.

Slater reached out, taking hold of her face with one powerful hand.
“Good night,” he said.
“And don’t get out of this bed…
’
cause I’ll just put you right back in it.”
He released her face, stood
,
and sighed.
“I’m havin’ me some more punkin pie,” he mumbled, turning to leave the room. Tom chuckled and followed his brother.

Katherine sat down on the side of the bed, however, smiling at Lark.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone work as hard to please everybody as you do, Lark,” she said quietly.

“It’s my job,” Lark answered.

“Oh, now
…
I know it’s a whole lot more than that. You’re a very extraordinary person…and I thank you for all you’ve done for me and the children. Now, I want you to get some rest. You’ve been working much too hard since we arrived…and probably even before.” She smiled and wiped a tear from her cheek. “You get some sleep. I’ll tuck everyone in tonight.”

Lark nodded, for she was so very tired.
She needed to rest—to surrende
r to sleep. If she didn’t, she
feared she might collapse.

Katherine stood
and
walked across the room, closing the door gently behind her.

Lark stripped off her day dress, corset
,
and stockings.
She pulled her nightdress over her head and sank into the soft comfort of her bed.
As she turned to her side
,
however, she smiled.
Her pillow did indeed hold a faint aroma of leather and wind—of Slater.
Warm beneath sheets and a quilt that had enveloped Slater for a time, Lark drifted off to sleep
,
her last thought being regret—regret that she’d been carried in Slater’s arms
and hadn’t even been awake to revel in the heaven of it.

Preparing for Christmas took nearly every moment of Lark’s spare time.
There were so many gifts to make—for she’d made individual gifts not only for Slater, Tom, Katherine
,
and the children but also for Eldon, Grady
,
and Ralston.
The tips of her fingers were sore from sewing stitches, yet she was glad she had a skill that allowed her the opportunity to make so many
gifts.
Furthermore, working on her Chri
stmas offerings in such secrecy
filled Lark with a wild anticipation and joy.
The excitement
,
constant and plain on Johnny
’s
, Lizzy
’s,
and Charlie’s faces
,
was thoroughly contagious as well.
Thus, Lark found herself near constantly giddy—near constantly overcome with an unfamiliar, rather feverish condition of joy. Even the fact that the ground was blanketed by snow—that it seemed it would linger until spring—even this couldn’t dampen her spirits.

Two weeks after Thanksgiving, Slater and Tom took Johnny and Charlie out to cut down a pine tree—a Christmas tree.
Eldon, Grady
,
and Ralston joined them
,
chopping down a smaller tree for use in the bunkhouse.
The men were playful
,
tossing snowballs with the boys and sliding down hills.
Lizzy had set herself to pouting
,
perturbed about not being invited to go with the men and boys to fetch the tree.
Lark had comforted her, however, by allowing Lizzy to assist in mixing a batch of gingerbread
and
then helping her cut them into different shapes before baking.
Lizzy was delighted, especially when the men returned to slather her with compliments on how pretty the cookies were—and how delicious.

That evening, everyone set to work decorating the tree.
Slater popped corn in a long-handled pan held over the fire in the parlor.
When he’d finished, Lark and Katherine strung the white, fluffy corn on thread to use as an embellishment for the tree.
Slater had to pop five pans full of popcorn in all
,
for the children certainly ate it faster than Lark and Katherine could string it.
Tom chuckled, commenting that they should plant two rows of the popping corn come spring instead of just one.