The Brides of Chance Collection Part 36

"Take him on into the kitchen," Miriam said. Everyone trooped behind, and Paul felt like a first-rate numbskull. How on earth would he prove himself a good protector and provider if he couldn't manage to stay on a horse? He'd decided after supper last night that Delilah was the woman for him. Maybe it seemed like a quick decision, but Papa had been the same way with Mama, and besides, there were dozens of men to every one woman out here. He needed to act fast. Of course, he'd be going slower now if he'd managed to break his arm. His forearm had already puffed up. Yep, that was attractive, all right.

He took a seat and grimaced as Miriam gently turned his arm. "Can you wiggle your fingers?" He complied, then sucked in a quick breath at the fresh flash of pain. Stupid arm hurt like anything, but the last thing he was gonna do with Delilah standing right beside him was holler about it. He snuck a peek at her face and gained some satisfaction at the expression of compa.s.sion on her delicate features.

"I broke my wrist years ago." She reached out and clasped his good hand. Warmth shot through him, but this time, he enjoyed the tingling sensation.

While he'd been distracted, someone had brought in some straight pieces of wood and bandages. Miriam confirmed Gideon's a.s.sessment.

"You've broken your arm, but it seems like a clean break near the wrist. I'll have to splint it and put you in a sling, Paul. You won't be able to ride for at least a couple of weeks. For today, I think you should take some of this." She plunked a gla.s.s of water on the table in front of him. From the way Miriam said it, he knew she'd laced it with laudanum. He shook his head.

"I'm not taking that." Since Delilah had begun holding his hand, the pain had stopped being so sharp.

Miriam retreated. "Paul, we all know you're a strong man who gives as good as he gets." That sounded better. He nodded his agreement.

She continued. "Do you remember the first night I came here?" Uh-oh. She'd tricked him. He scowled at her.

"You gave me laudanum after Logan brained me, right?"

He had no choice but to admit it. "What of it?" Now he sounded surly-typically more Dan's territory than his.

"So if you can give as good as you get, you should be able to take what you give to others." The p.r.o.nouncement held no logical flaws, but he gave one last argument.

"I'll be fine-just fine-without it." He felt Delilah squeeze his hand, and he turned to her.

"Wise men can admit when they need a little help. There's no shame in that, but there is some in causing yourself more pain than necessary." From her serious tone, he realized she spoke from watching her father's addiction to gambling ruin his life. It also crossed his mind that being stuck around the homestead wouldn't be such a bad thing for the next month or so. Staying close to the house meant sticking close to her-but only if he wasn't asleep the whole time. This called for a compromise.

"I'll be sure and take it before bed to make sure I sleep, but not now. If your argument holds, Miriam, that's fair since I only gave you laudanum at night."

Miriam gave in graciously. "I'll hold you to that, Paul."

After trussing Paul up like a turkey-his words, not hers-Miriam sent the rest of the men back out to the grazing fields and handed Paul a bucket of slop for the pigs.

"This morning I intended to teach Delilah how to take care of the yard livestock. We'd just finished milking Mister and Sir when you rode up. Alisa's watching the girls, and I need to start on lunch. I hadn't gathered the eggs this morning so I could show Delilah. It still needs to be done. The chickens need to be fed and the pigs slopped, too. If you feel up to it, take Delilah with you and teach her. She's a quick learner." With that, Miriam shooed them both out of her kitchen.

Delilah found herself standing outside with Paul, trying to decide whether or not she felt happy with the situation. She'd learned long ago not to let herself be caught alone with a man-they couldn't be trusted. But here she stood. She couldn't do or say anything to get out of it without insulting Miriam or Paul. Not to mention that of all the brothers, it had to be Paul-the one she was most drawn to and least comfortable around. Well, Dan probably made her more uncomfortable, but Miriam wouldn't push her into spending time with him.

Why couldn't it be Bryce, more concerned with his animals, or either t.i.tus or Gideon, who couldn't keep their eyes off their wives? She'd even prefer Logan, who couldn't seem to stop himself from staring. Nope, she wasn't that lucky. Paul, the unexpectedly intriguing giant, broke his arm. She'd even held his hand for some reason she couldn't recall. The man who gently held Ginny Mae and dried her duck fluff hair, whose touch sent tingles down Delilah's spine, would teach her to slop pigs.

A lot of thoughts raced through that pretty head. Paul wondered what those thoughts might be. He figured they had something to do with the fact that Delilah wasn't comfortable being alone with him. As unencouraging as that might be, she'd held his hand earlier while Miriam looked at his arm, which meant that even if chances were slim, they existed. He should say something to set her at ease.

"Shall we go?" It wasn't exactly a proposal, but it was a start.

Delilah looked at the basket of chicken feed she held. "Do you want to feed the chickens first?"

"Sure. The henhouse is this way." They walked over to the coop. Actually, calling it a chicken cupboard would be more accurate since its two doors swung on hinges that opened outward. Bryce had invented it years ago. Given that all of the brothers were too big to squeeze into a small aisle in the middle of a crowded coop, he simply made a structure about six feet high with a single wall filled with rows of nesting boxes in the back. As usual, the doors stayed open so the flightless birds could peck around their fenced-in yard during the day.

"The eggs are in those boxes. You just have to stick your hand in and find them. First, we scatter the feed in the far corner of the yard, so the hens will be distracted. This is springtime, though, so a few of 'em are bound to be setting."

"Setting?"

"Yep. They just sit on their eggs day in and day out and don't want to move except to s.n.a.t.c.h some feed. If you run across one that comes back before the others or won't move, just let her be. It's actually best if you can sneak a few extra eggs into her nest so she'll hatch them, too. In a little bit, she'll have a brood of baby chicks."

"All right, so first we scatter the feed. Over here?" She started tossing handfuls in front of her.

"That's it. Now when you've scattered some, be sure to scoot back-" His instructions came a bit too late, as the hungry clutch of chickens converged on the feed...and Delilah. She backed up against a fence. Paul waded through the squawking ma.s.s of feathers to help her edge away from the ravenous birds pecking very close to her feet.

"Thanks." The smile she shot him singed his heart like a lightning bolt. "They managed to corner me."

"You just didn't count on them being such greedy birds. The second the feed hits the ground, they're on their way. Now that they're good and distracted, we'll fill the basket with eggs."

He understood distraction all too well. She wore the same dress as yesterday, but the golden fabric hinted at the worth of its wearer.

They stepped into the coop and started rooting around for the eggs. "It's more like hunting eggs than gathering them, isn't it?" Delilah asked. "They hide them pretty well under all that straw and such."

"True. It's always like that when they're nesting. Sometimes a really determined hen will go into the taller weeds and build a secret nest for her eggs."

"I understand that. It's natural to want to protect what's yours, and who doesn't want to have some small s.p.a.ce just to call their own?"

He'd like to call her his own, and he knew of a cozy little cabin they could share.

As the basket filled, one or two of the hens came back to settle on their nests again. He took some of the eggs and tucked them under the birds; then he led Delilah away from the coop. They dropped off the eggs in the kitchen, where Miriam was checking on a roast. Paul picked up the slop bucket with his good hand, and they headed off again. It wasn't until he reached the hog pen that he realized they had a slight problem.

"Usually I just grab the handle with one hand and the back of the bucket with the other and pour it into the trough...."

She understood the problem. "Need a hand?"

"Literally." He smiled.

"Here, I'm the one who's supposed to be learning, anyway."

He looked at her, then the bucket. "It's kind of heavy."

His angel squared her shoulders and gave him a determined look. "I carried buckets of milk this morning. Besides, if Miriam can do it, so can I."

So she had an independent streak. Good. He didn't want some gingerbread miss who'd crumble at a word. He handed her the bucket and watched as she dumped its contents over the side of the pen and into the wooden trough.

Accustomed to dining at an earlier hour, the pigs were hungrier than usual. They snuffled over to plunge their snouts into the mess of grub. Delilah watched them thoughtfully.

"You know, they're kind of cute. Almost reminds me of..." Her voice trailed off, and he thought he knew why.

"Yep. They get almost as much food on themselves as in their mouths-just like Ginny Mae." That brought on another smile.

"I thought so, too, but I didn't want to compare such a precious little girl to a bunch of pigs."

"Well, since we both thought the same thing, there must be truth in it," he pointed out. "There's no harm in plain speaking."

"True, but honesty isn't a very common quality, is it?" She stated the observation with such quiet certainty, he wasn't sure how to respond.

"Why do you say that?" Though he wanted to know, he also aimed to fill the awkward silence as they walked back to the house.

"I'm not saying there aren't good people out there." Her eyes filled with resignation and regret. "You and your brothers seem to be some of them. But on the whole, people lie, or cheat, or hide things from others. Everyone makes decisions based on their own needs. That's the way of the world."

Paul knew she'd hopped from town to town with her father, that she didn't own much and wasn't married because of it. He hadn't thought of the people she'd been exposed to along the way-probably all drunks, hustlers, gamblers, and crooks. Little wonder she didn't have much faith in the general honesty of humankind.

"Everyone makes mistakes. It's a matter of how we deal with them before G.o.d. *If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.' "

"If He's able to do that, then why doesn't He help the people who can't help themselves but want to?" Her wistful tone hinted that she thought of her father's addiction to the gaming tables, but her statement chilled Paul to the core. Could it be that the woman he wanted to make his wife didn't even trust the Lord?

Dear Lord, am I wrong in thinking this is the woman Thou hast made to be my helpmate? She's been hurt in so many ways, but I see Thy grace in her smile. Please give me the words to soothe her and bring her closer to Thee.

"He works in mysterious ways, Delilah, so we don't always know when He's working in us. That doesn't mean He's not with us, but it doesn't mean He necessarily makes things the way we want them."

She refused to meet his gaze any longer. "Then what's the point of believing in Him?" she whispered sadly before turning and walking away.

Chapter 4.

Two mornings later, Delilah eyed her primrose evening dress with distaste. Today was laundry day, so at least she'd get her traveling frock clean, but she'd been wearing the yellow one for three days straight. Unfortunately, she couldn't very well don the primrose satin evening gown to do laundry. That meant the yellow wouldn't get washed.

Well, one clean dress was better than none, and she'd take what she could get. As she prepared to get dressed, she heard a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" She tried to make her voice loud enough for the person to hear but soft enough so that it wouldn't wake Bryce and Logan in the next cabin.

"Alisa. May I come in?"

Delilah hurriedly put on her robe before unlatching the door.

Alisa walked in. "You know it's wash day today, right? Well, I know the dress you wore when you arrived was done in from traveling, and you've been wearing the yellow one all week. I've got plenty of dresses, so I thought this might fit." She held out a deep green day dress.

Despite knowing from Miriam that Alisa had recently inherited her wealth and that Alisa probably did own plenty of dresses, her kind gesture touched Delilah. "Thank you, but I really couldn't. You've already done so much for me."

"This shade looks awful on me, but with your coloring, it'll look fabulous on you. I only brought it back because I thought we could make something from the fabric-it's a bit long. Luckily, you're taller than I am. Why don't you try it on while I go set the table?" With that, Alisa placed the dress on Delilah's just-made bed and whisked out of the room.

It would be rude to refuse the beautiful garment. Delilah pulled it on, relieved to notice the small pockets concealed in the skirt. The sleeves and hemline both fell a bit short, but otherwise it fit perfectly. She always rolled up her sleeves, anyway, so that hardly mattered, and hopefully she could let down the hem. For now, it was pa.s.sable. She put up her hair and hurried to the kitchen to see if she could help with breakfast. Thanks to Miriam, she knew how to make eggs and ham, stew, biscuits, cobbler, coffee, bread, bacon, and oatmeal. Well, she didn't remember how much flour and so forth by heart just yet, but she could follow the instructions well enough. Today she'd learn how to prepare flapjacks.

When she entered the kitchen, Alisa smiled. "See, it would be positively criminal for you not to wear that shade. Other than it being a little short, it's perfect for her, isn't it, Miriam?"

"She's right. Somehow the forest green suits your dark hair and light eyes. It's very becoming. I've already put on the coffee and made the flapjack batter. Are you ready to cook them?"

Delilah stifled a pang of disappointment over missing how to make the batter. She enjoyed cooking, even though she'd made a few minor mistakes-like with the eggs. Soon enough, she started ladling batter onto a large skillet, pouring smooth circles. Watching vigilantly for the circles to start bubbling, she lifted the edge of the flapjacks to make sure they'd cooked enough before flipping them.

Even though she tried to be careful, one slid off the griddle onto the stove, and somehow one ended up on the floor before she really got the hang of it. Miriam and Alisa laughed with her when she made a mistake and helped her make what had to be more than two dozen good-sized pancakes.

By the time the men wandered in, everything was ready. They all took their places, and this time, Paul said grace. Delilah sat at his injured left side, so she rested her hand on his shoulder. She might not believe all of what they said during prayer time or even at nighttime Bible readings, but she relished the feeling of closeness and the warmth of family.

"Dear heavenly Father, although we cannot see Thee, we know Thou art always with us...."

How can we know He is always with us if we can't see Him?

"Please guide us through this day and bless the food Thou hast placed at our table...."

Humph. Paul must mean the food Miriam, Alisa, and I placed at the table.

"Let us feel Thy presence and remember to thank Thee for the blessings Thou hast given us...."

Well, she didn't know about feeling G.o.d's presence, but she did feel blessed to be with Miriam and Alisa and Polly and Ginny...even Paul. She hadn't made up her mind about the rest yet.

"And a special thanks to Thee for bringing Miriam's cousin here. We're glad to have her with us...."

Miriam's cousin? His words warmed her heart until she really thought about it. Paul thought G.o.d had brought her to Chance Ranch? Wouldn't that mean He'd let her father die? How could that be right?

Maybe it was a kind thing to let him go, a tiny voice inside her spoke up. You know how much unhappiness he felt that he never lived up to his promises to you. Traveling all the time and the pressure of not winning were slowly killing him anyway. Papa loved you. He'd be relieved to know you ended up here safe and sound.

Delilah tried to choke back her tears. She couldn't think about that now. After taking a deep breath, she realized the prayer was over. Belatedly, she removed her hand from Paul's shoulder. To give herself something to do, she picked up the syrup jug and started pa.s.sing it around.

"Are you all right?" Paul's quiet question unnerved her even more. When she faced him, she needed to take a deep breath.

"I'll be fine. I'm just..." She paused. "Why don't you let me cut up those pancakes for you? You'll have to tell me if they're any good. Miriam made the batter, but if they're burned, it's my fault." She busied herself with her fork and knife.

"All right." Again, he spoke softly so the others wouldn't easily overhear. "I won't push you, but we'll talk sooner or later."

She didn't want to think about what that meant and strengthened her resolve not to get too close to this man. He understood her far better than he had any right to, and it fl.u.s.tered her.

"Alisa, Delilah, and I would like to go to town tomorrow." Miriam's voice thankfully pulled her attention away. "Paul should go with us so Doc Morris can have a peek at his arm."

For some reason, Gideon didn't look too happy. "Normally, that'd be fine, but since Paul only has one good arm, I'd prefer you wait until one of the rest of us can go with you."

Everyone listened in, and t.i.tus, Bryce, Logan, and even Dan nodded their agreement.

Miriam stood her ground. "Without Paul, you already have fewer hands to take care of the ranch, and we need to get some supplies."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I don't want the three of you women going to town alone. It's not safe."

Alisa chimed in. "We're just going to the Whites' general store. With Paul along, we ought to be fine. Even with only one sound arm, he's still stronger than any two of the town boys."

"I agree with Gideon." t.i.tus threw in his two cents' worth. "You'll have to wait a bit."

"Besides, you know it isn't often we get to go to town." The hangdog look on Logan's face made Delilah smile, it was so comical. Bryce focused on his plate.

Paul studied the women. "What is it you need?"

Miriam seemed to welcome his practical question. "We're low on sugar and could use some baking soda and flour, too. I wanted to teach Delilah how to make baked apples, but we don't have enough. I need some oil for cooking and a new scrub brush, and I'd like to pick up a few things for the baby before I can't make it to town anymore."