The Brides of Chance Collection Part 52

He nodded curtly.

"There are only three MacPhersons; I'm countin' four women." Bryce bit his lip and stared at the gals.

"I'm a widow woman. Came 'long to be sure the girls would be happy. Then I'm a-goin' back home. I'm Lovejoy Spencer. This here's my baby sister, Temperance." She then gestured toward the two gals whose hair matched the color of a terra-cotta flowerpot. "Eunice and Lois are our neighbors from back home."

Gideon introduced the Chance clan. These gals from the backwoods would probably remember how to tell apart Miriam, Delilah, and Alisa because they were respectively blond, black haired, and in the motherly way. Daniel figured it was an exercise in futility when it came to the strangers recalling his brothers' names.

"You've met Daniel," Gideon yammered on. "Paul is Delilah's husband. t.i.tus is married to Alisa. Logan and Bryce are the young ones."

While folks exchanged pleasantries and carried food to the matched pair of tables, Daniel got waylaid by Ginny Mae for a few minutes. Both of his daughters acted a mite cranky, but with all the hoopla, he wasn't too surprised.

Logan elbowed his way to the table and sat between the redheaded sisters. "Parson Abe preached about Eunice and Lois a few months back. They were in the Bible, you know."

Alisa pa.s.sed the corn to Lovejoy. "I've never heard of anyone bearing your name before."

Lovejoy hitched her shoulder. "Ma named us girls all after the fruits of the Spirit. After me, she decided she'd best slow down and limit herself to one apiece, 'cept she skipped over longsuffering because 'twas a vicious mean handle to slap on a dab of a babe."

"You have a sister named Gentleness?" Alisa couldn't mask her surprise.

"Yes'm," Temperance answered. "Call her Nessie. Goodness-well, since we couldn't right well have us two Nessies, we call her Goody."

"Peace died of the whooping cough," Eunice said.

Chiming right in, Lois said, "And then their Ma skipped over using Meekness and gave Tempy her name 'cuz she was a-prayin' her man would stop brewing moons.h.i.+ne."

The room suddenly went silent. Ginny coughed, Daniel patted her on the back, then Tempy acted as if nothing had been said amiss. "Lovejoy's a healer back home. If comfort were one of the fruits of the spirit, Mama should have given that name to Lovejoy."

Dan didn't care much about the conversation. He had other things on his mind, but from what he saw, Comfort would have been an apt name for the young widow sitting beside him. She'd been soothing Polly from the minute she arrived. Once he shoveled in his own meal and managed to get Ginny Mae to have a few slurps of soup, he begged off any further social obligation and took the girls back to their cabin.

"Ain't niver seen a place so extraordinary as this here ranch," Lois said as they got ready for bed.

"I'm liable to pinch myself black and blue," her sister said. "Do you imagine our beaux will have such a fine spread?"

"They haven't been here long enough." Tempy's voice sounded m.u.f.fled as she squirmed into her flannel nightdress.

"It's not just what they have right now; you have to imagine what a place you'll be able to carve out with your men as your years unfold," Lovejoy said as she plaited her hair.

"I cain scarce believe this." Lois climbed into a bed and scooted over to make room for her sister. "Above-the-ground beds-and just two of us in each!"

"Cain you fathom it-this whole cabin is just for them two younger boys. They each got a bed to themselves." Eunice crept in by Lois and thumped the pillow. "I'm thinkin' we could match 'em up with Uncle Asa's girls."

"Hold your horses." Lovejoy looked at her three charges. "Nothing's for certain yet-not for any of you. 'Til I'm positive those MacPherson boys are good husband material, no one's hot footin' it to the altar. Worldly goods don't count for much when a woman's heart is achin' from being hitched to a bad 'un."

"Don't worry for me, Lovey." Tempy b.u.t.toned her gown. "Whilst you tended Mike's mama in her last days, I got to know him. A better man I'll never find. Not a doubt tarries in my mind 'bout him and me being happy together."

"We recollect Obadiah and Hezekiah from when they come to buy their hound." Lois yawned. "They stayed to supper."

"The hounds stayed, or the men?" Tempy teased.

They all laughed. Tempy gave Lovejoy a hug and whispered, "Don't worry, Sis. It won't be like you and Vern."

Lovejoy's breath caught. She gave her sister a big squeeze and pulled away. She didn't discuss her marriage. Ever. "Guess I'd best blow out the lantern. Say your prayers and sleep well."

Exhausted from travel and toting that trunk, the others fell asleep almost at once. Lovejoy couldn't-not after having heard Vern's name. The memory of the children he fathered with two other women haunted her even years after he'd died. Lord above, when will his betrayal stop hurtin'?

Before morning broke, Lovejoy slipped out of bed. She dressed and tucked a knife in her leather sheath before grabbing a gunnysack and s.h.i.+mmying out the door. Purply blue with a mere glimmer of fading moonlight, the sky held the moisture of dew and the squawks of sc.r.a.ppy jaybirds. She took a deep breath of crisp air then let it out and set to walking.

"'Morning, Lord. Thou hast outdone Thyself here. Cain't say as I expected it. Home was beautiful, but here-well, it just seems more green than gritty."

She took out her knife and started to identify plants and harvest leaves, bark, and roots. Back inside that dandy little cabin, her healin' satchel held some of the things she used most often, but it would be wise to start Tempy off with a supply of her own. More important, those wee la.s.sies in the cabin next door coughed during the night. They'd been on the fractious side at supper last evening, too. Might as well put together a few things for this household while she was at it.

She hoped and prayed the Chances were right about the MacPhersons. They all spoke well of the bachelors 'round the table last night. Why, if Obie, Hezzy, and Mike turned out half as favorable as they sounded, her charges were trading up to a far better life than they would have had back in Salt Lick Holler.

Fine folks, these Chances. They'd make for good neighbors. The three married brothers and their wives billed and cooed like turtledoves when they didn't think a body was a-watching, and the two youngest lads were right cute saplings. Too bad about that widow man Daniel. He's got hisself two darlin' little daughters, but he's grouchier than an earlywoke springtime bear.

Daniel tossed off the blanket and sat on the edge of his bed. His stomach growled. The last thing he wanted was to go to breakfast, because those women would be there. His brothers and their wives never expected him to make much conversation-especially first thing in the morning. Their uninvited guests wouldn't know better.

Those three young hillbilly women chattered nineteen to the dozen last night. At least Lovejoy Spencer hadn't bothered him much. Instead, she'd held Polly on her lap and gently coaxed her to get through supper. He'd done his best to stay civil through the meal, and he'd done fairly well to his way of thinking. Coming back to the house right after eating was supposed to be an escape. He didn't feel like getting trapped into conversation, and the girls needed to go to bed. Nonetheless, he'd heard the music from the house and known the bitter tang of loneliness.

Coughs sounded from his daughters' cabin. They were both out of sorts last night. He wouldn't be surprised if they caught colds. Taking them on over to Miriam and asking her for some elixir would be wise.

He stood, stretched, and yanked on his clothes. His first inclination was to pad over in his bare feet, but since he'd take the girls to the main house, he might as well lace on his boots. Both socks on and the first boot laced, he couldn't stand it anymore. His baby girls were starting to sound downright croupy. Dan opened the door to the "hallway" and felt a flare of relief that the doors existed. Normally, he left them wide open so he could hear the girls, but he'd shut them last night to keep the stove's precious heat from escaping.

Five quick, lopsided strides to the girls. Diddle, diddle dumplin', my son John... How did that go? He forgot what Polly said next, but "one shoe off and one shoe on" rang in his mind. She'd be tickled at seeing him like this. Might make her perk up.

Polly's clear, high voice carried through the door, "Ginny, put your hand on your mouth when you cough. Do it like this."

Dan grinned as he opened the door. Polly was a bossy little bit of goods, but she did a nice job of trying to teach her sister things. His smile faded immediately.

"What are you doing here?"

Chapter 3.

Lovejoy Spencer stood by the dresser with clippings that amounted to half the forest piled all over the top of the oak piece. Swirling a pie tin over the gla.s.s chimney of a kerosene lantern, she said matter-of-factly, "Your la.s.sies are a-barking. Figured they could use an elixir to soothe their throats and loosen up the phlegm."

"Miriam keeps medicaments at the main house."

"I imagine she does. Problem is, the few a body cain get from the mercantile that actually are healthful pack a far too powerful kick for wee ones. Most of 'em are worthless and are little more than likker."

She hadn't said a thing he could disagree with. As she spoke, she rotated her wrist in such a way as to keep the liquid in the pie pan whirlpooling. A surprisingly pleasant aroma emanated from the affair. Even so, that didn't prove that she had any idea of what she was doing.

"The wrong plant can cause harm. I don't want my daughters to-"

"Right you are. But I've had me plenty of training and experience. I'm a grannywoman. I don't mean to sound puffed up, but I do have a knack with yarbs and such."

Yarbs? That did it. Daniel decided he wasn't going to trust his precious children to this backwoods woman.

"Neither of them's runnin' a fever, so I didn't add in willow bark. You've got gracious plenty out there, but seein' as how it's bitter, I'm just as glad not to add it in."

Everyone knows willow bark works for fevers and tastes bitter. It's going to take far more than that to convince me- "But G.o.d be praised, it bein' summer, elderberries are ripe. I clumb up and got a wee bit of honeycomb, and out in your verra own garden, I found a hip on your dog rose. Fancy that, will ya? Don't normally find them till autumn's on the way. G.o.d provides, I say. We'll have your girls feelin' tiptop by the time they sit down to breakfast."

"I'll have Miriam give them what they need."

Just then, Ginny Mae let out a brace of coughs.

Lovejoy looked down at her with compa.s.sion, but Daniel refused to let his heart soften. His babies' safety rated far above this strange woman's feelings. "Come here, Ginny."

She poked out her bottom lip. "I want juice."

To his surprise, Lovejoy petted Ginny's hair a single stroke then gave her a gentle nudge. "Honor your father. Obey him. He loves you."

He lifted Ginny and tried to ignore how Lovejoy blew out the lantern and put down the pie tin. Wordlessly, she swiped all the leaves, berries, and twigs into a burlap bag. He hadn't meant to hurt her feelings, but she shouldn't have stuck her nose in where she wasn't invited.

"Daddy, the lady fried Sissy's socks on the stove."

A flush of embarra.s.sment heated his neck. He'd forgotten to wash that sock again last night. Here it was, clean, dry, and fresh smelling on his daughter's leg. Her little shoes were tied, and the girls' bed was made up smart as a one-buck hotel's with the blankets all snug, then the sheet folded fancylike to peep over the top with something on each pillow to finish the effect.

"We'd better get on over to breakfast." He snagged Polly as she scampered past.

"I wanna take my mouse."

"Mouse?" He looked about. Vermin did manage to get in on occasion, but borrowing Delilah's Shortstack always worked. For being a little gimpy, that cat still knew her job and took it seriously.

"Miss Lovejoy made my mouse." Polly wiggled from his grasp. "See?" She pulled the little decoration off the pillow and galloped back over. A sc.r.a.p of light brown cloth in her hand was knotted and twisted to form a creditable-looking mouse.

"I gots babies in a blanket, Daddy." Ginny pointed to the blue sc.r.a.p on her pillow.

A draft swept across the room, then the door shut. Daniel stared at the far wall. Lovejoy Spencer had tried to do nice things for his girls, but he'd just put an end to that by rejecting her efforts. He didn't want her to be prying into his business or inviting herself.

Tryin' to do right ain't the same as doin' right. Widow Hendricks's words echoed in Lovejoy's mind as she stashed her gathering bag into the cabin. She'd wanted to help, but she'd overstepped. Daniel Chance was a good father, and he protected his daughters. Stumbling into a stranger first thing in the morning was good cause for him to be wary. Too bad, though. The la.s.sies needed something for their coughs.

Tempy lifted her head from the pillow. "You trying to beat the rooster on coaxing the sun up?"

"There's no time like dawn to take a bit of a walk. It's good for the soul to spend time appreciatin' what G.o.d made and gave. You gals hop to. Don't take too long sprucin' up, because these folks could be chasing me for the rooster's job." She left them and headed for the main house, sure she could lend a hand there.

Miriam answered her knock. "Good morning."

Before Lovejoy could respond, the door on the nearest cabin banged open. Delilah dashed out and around the corner.

"What was that all about?" Miriam wondered aloud.

"Don't rightly know." Lovejoy held a suspicion, but it wasn't for her to voice such a thing.

Miriam's brows furrowed. "I wonder...." Her voice dropped to a mere whisper. "You'd be able to tell, wouldn't you? Eunice said you're a midwife."

Lovejoy avoided the topic. "Menfolk are gonna be hungry. I'm happy to holp make breakfast." She walked into the house, went over to the stove, and stoked it. Her first order of business was to start two big pots of coffee while Miriam began to mix up a batch of biscuits.

Bryce toted in a big basket of eggs.

"Now looky there! You must have plenty of fine layin' hens to have so many eggs."

"Got us five dozen," he declared proudly.

"And he's named every last one," Logan tacked on as he brought in a br.i.m.m.i.n.g milk can. Daniel and the girls followed in right after him.

Lovejoy started cracking eggs into a big, green-striped earthenware bowl. "You men eat one egg or two at breakfast?"

"Four apiece, ma'am."

Shocked at his answer, she smashed the egg on the bowl's rim and felt the goo rush out over her fingers. "Four?"

"Well, the gals don't eat that much," Logan mused.

"Miriam?" Gideon sauntered out of the bedroom with a baby on his shoulder. "Caleb's got a rash."

Lovejoy wiped her hands on a dishcloth. "What kind of rash?"

"He's p.r.o.ne to diaper rash."

She tugged the baby from Gideon and cuddled him. "I'll be happy to scorch some flour. Got any zinc?"

"Zinc?"

"If we add it to the flour, it makes the rash heal faster." t.i.tus scooted past Daniel and headed to a wooden box on top of the pie safe. "I don't know about zinc. I'm just hoping we've got Barne's Remedy in here."

"I have some in my satchel if you don't." Lovejoy held baby Caleb in one arm and started cracking more eggs. These men looked hungry, and Miriam was the only one here who seemed to have any idea as to what needed to be done to get a meal on the table. "Your belly givin' you fits?"

"Not mine. Alisa's."

"She oughtn't have Barne's. It's got rye malt. If the rye is harvested moist, it cain have ergot that'll put her into early labor. I'll make her soda biscuits and ginger tea."

Gideon poured himself a mug of coffee. "I wish we would have known that for Miriam."

Miriam nodded. "My first few months with Caleb were rough."

Tempy, Lois, and Eunice arrived. They jumped right in and helped set the table, make gravy, and scramble eggs. Freed up, Lovejoy got water to boiling for tea. She turned as Delilah came in. No one seemed to mind the gimpy, brown-spotted white kitten that dodged at her hem.

Lovejoy took one look at how pale Delilah was and suggested, "How 'bout you having a sit-down?"

"That's a good idea," Miriam chimed in as she led Delilah to a chair in the corner. "Lovejoy, why don't you bring Caleb over to her?"