Tanner (Bachelors and Babies Book 14)

by St. John, Cheryl

  “I looked at ranch land.”

  Everyone stopped eating cake to look at Tanner.

  Raylene’s heart skipped a couple of beats. She didn’t want to hear this news, but she had to. She finished a bite and rested her fork on her plate.

  “Where’s the land?” Reverend Bailey asked.

  “It is the Rumford Homestead Ranch,” he said. “It’s a couple thousand acres of farmland and pastures southwest of here. There is water year-round. The owner inherited the place. His son lives in the east, and has no interest in ranching. Mrs. Rumford wants to move near their son.”

  “It sounds perfect for you,” Emerald Cameron said. “Have you made him an offer?”

  “He isn’t ready to sell immediately. I learned about his plans from one of his neighbors, and so I immediately rode out to see him. I will have first shot when he’s ready.”

  Raylene didn’t finish her slice of cake. The conversation went on around her. She wasn’t surprised. A ranch had been his plan all along. Lillian had been a complication, and he was only here now because of his sister’s death and his need for a home and help. Once he had land and a house—once he had a wife, he’d be gone.

  She’d lived with a lot greater disappointment than this, she assured herself. Allowing herself to feel an attachment in the first place had been a mistake. She would have to find a new manner in which to look at the situation. At least when she said goodbye to Lillian, she’d have the assurance that the child was alive, in good hands, and that she’d often see her in church or around town in the coming years.

  She cleared away the dishes and left them stacked for later, so she could join the others in the sitting room.

  Abraham thanked her politely, said goodbye to their guests, and took his leave.

  “Play for us, please?” Almira asked.

  Thus ensued a conversation with the Baileys over Raylene’s singing and playing abilities.

  “I will play if Mr. Bell plays his fiddle.” She’d deliberately called it that.

  He gave her a quick glance, and they shared a covert smile.

  He went for the instrument, and Raylene set a sizeable stack of sheet music on a nearby table.

  Almira chose music and handed it to Raylene.

  “’How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, when fond recollection recalls them to view. The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wild wood, and every loved spot which my infancy knew.’”

  When she’d finished the piece, Miss Cameron said, “Those are not the original lyrics. It was an Irish folk song called Araby’s daughter, but I never understood it—something about pearls and weeping seabirds.”

  Jennie sat on the sofa, holding the now-sleeping Lillian. “Can you sing Fanny Grey, Mrs. Cranford?”

  Raylene glanced at Tanner. “The song has a female and a male part.”

  “Not I,” he said with a firm shake of his head.

  “I can sing it,” Reverend Bailey piped up.

  Raylene played the first chords and found the rhythm. “’Well, well, sir, you've come at last, I thought you'd come no more. I've waited with my bonnet on from one till half past four. You know I hate to sit alone, unsettled where to go. You'll break my heart, I fear you will, if you continue so.’”

  With his strings, Tanner jumped in to join the playful tune.

  Raylene nodded to the reverend.

  He took a breath and sang, “’Now pray, my love, put off that frown, and don't begin to scold. You really will persuade me soon—you’re growing cross and old. I only stopped at Grosvnor gate, young Fanny's eyes to catch. I won't, I swear, I won't be made to keep time like a watch.’”

  Jennie laughed delightedly. Emerald and Almira tapped their feet, and Meriday clapped along, grinning ear to ear. Even Winston enjoyed and clapped in time.

  They finished several verses, and Raylene applauded for Reverend Bailey. Twin Springs was in for some surprises with this jovial gentleman as their new minister.

  Later, Raylene gave Lillian another bottle of milk while they sat with Jennie on the porch. Tanner had taken the reverend and Winston to see his livery.

  “Winston is a nice young man,” she told the other woman. “He’s polite and seems very bright.”

  Jennie smiled. “Thank you. He’s a joy in our lives to be sure. I lost three babies before he was born, so we feel especially blessed.” Her tender gaze took in the baby Raylene held to her shoulder. “I understand Lillian is Mr. Bell’s niece?”

  “Yes. His sister was on her way here, but she was weak and didn’t survive the trip.”

  “How sad. And you and Mr. Bell are…?” She raised her eyebrows in question.

  Heat crept up Raylene’s neck to her face. “Oh, no. No, nothing like that. He’s a boarder, and Meriday and I care for the baby while he works. I suppose we’re friends.”

  Jennie smiled. “He bought your basket, and your picnic appeared to have perhaps been more than friendly.”

  “Well, I suppose we are…comfortable in one another’s company, but that’s all. He has other prospects. Twin Springs is filled with pretty young women. If he purchases land and starts his own ranch, he will most likely ask one of them for her hand.”

  “Who would be a good match, do you suppose?” she asked.

  “Stella Emerson is a lovely woman. Friendly, and she can sew and quilt.”

  “She takes care of her father, doesn’t she?”

  Raylene nodded. “There’s that. Mary Standifer perhaps.”

  Jennie nodded.

  “Octavia Gaines.” Saying the name aloud made her stomach drop.

  The other woman slanted Raylene a curious glance.

  “She’s very pretty,” Raylene said.

  “You’re pretty, dear.”

  Her face heated again. “I’m capable, cultured—many things. I’m not pretty.”

  “The Bible does say that outward adornment is of less value than the value of a meek and quiet spirit,” Jennie said. “But you’re lovely. Your husband was killed in the war?”

  Raylene nodded. “He was. We had only been married a few months before he was stationed.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Truthfully, I didn’t know him all that well.” Admitting that released a flood of relief. She liked to think of herself as a hero’s beloved, now widowed and mourning, but she had been only a bargaining tool, a rich man’s daughter married off to a military man—and the arrangement had reaped no benefits once the war negated riches and status. She’d become a charming ornament in a land that required grit and strength.

  Jennie reached over and patted her knee. “I admire you for starting over in a strange country and establishing your own income. You’re very resourceful.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without Meriday.”

  “You two are close.”

  “We’ve been together since we were children.”

  “She’s a lovely person and a gentle spirit. God gave you both something special when He placed you together.”

  Raylene nodded.

  The men returned, Winston running ahead to tell his mother he got to carry water to the horses. Soon after, the Baileys thanked her and took their leave.

  Tanner looked up at her where she stood holding Lillian on the porch. “I’m going to finish up at the livery, if that’s all right with you.”

  “Of course.”

  He left, and she carried the baby down the stairs and walked the perimeter of her yard, thankful for a good-sized lot. Her neighbors were close, but not near enough that she didn’t have privacy. Out back, she stopped to talk to Lula Mae. The goat stopped munching hay to come over to the gate. Raylene opened the gate and entered the pen, being careful where she stepped. She knelt and sat Lillian on her knee so the baby could see the animal. Lula Mae nuzzled them both and then nipped at Raylene’s skirt.

  Lillian’s eyes were wide. She emitted gurgling noises and flapped her arms.

  “That’s where your milk comes from, Lillian. Lul
a Mae eats grass and grains and turns it into nourishment for you.” She petted the goat’s head. “Thank you, Lula Mae.”

  The animal lost interest in her visitors and went back to her wood trough, which was still full of feed. She munched and occasionally looked over, chin hairs wobbling with each chew.

  Rising, Raylene let herself out, securing the gate. She showed the baby her garden area, the chickens in their enclosure. Following advice from seasoned farmers, she’d had their coop built with a surrounding secure wire fence that created a safe span of area away from the fence. The old timers had told her racoons would reach right through the wire and pull off the chickens’ heads if there wasn’t enough space for the them to move away.

  She was pretty proud of what she and Meriday had created here. The thought of her friend falling in love made her happy, but she didn’t like to think of her marrying and moving away. The day of her departure was inevitable, however. Meriday deserved her own home and family. She’d served Raylene’s family her entire life, as had her mother.

  Climbing the back-porch stairs, Raylene perched on a wooden chair and turned Lillian to face her. “’Baa, Baa, Black Sheep, have you any wool? Yes, sir, Yes, sir, three bags full.’”

  Lillian’s rosebud mouth curved into a smile that crinkled her eyes.

  “You smiled!” she said and laughed with delight. “’One for my master and one for my dame, and one for the little girl who lives down the lane.’”

  Lillian smiled again.

  Raylene’s heart melted, and she kissed the infant’s cheeks, inhaled her sweet fragrance. She looked at her again, tears blurring her vision. She blinked away the moisture. “I love you,” she whispered. The poignant feelings she had for this child surprised her. She’d had no idea how strongly she would feel. “I love you, sweet girl. Wait until your Uncle Tanner sees what you can do. He’s going to be so surprised.”

  She should protect herself, but she couldn’t. Lillian deserved all the love and attention she could shower on her. She was going to love her deeply for as long as she could. And she wasn’t going to let thoughts of the future dull her joy.

  Of course, Lillian was tired and wouldn’t smile for Tanner, though Raylene’s sweet and unabashed renditions of Lavender’s Blue Dilly Dilly and Toora Loora Loora, an Irish lullaby, amused him. He could listen to her sing forever. After her bright exaggerated expressions as she prompted a response from the baby, he was the one smiling.

  After sundown, they came inside, and she lit lamps in the kitchen and set out meat and bread. The others hadn’t joined them yet.

  “She smiled big as you please,” she assured him. “Twice! I told her you’d be delighted, but apparently, she’s all smiled out for now. She’ll do it tomorrow, I’m sure.”

  She kissed Lillian’s cheek and handed her over.

  His attention lingered on her lips a moment too long, but thankfully, she wasn’t looking at him. Her expression when she looked at Lillian created an ache in his chest, a longing he couldn’t explain or understand. She was obviously enamored with the child, which he was beginning to understand. A few months ago, he would never have understood his own protective or besotted feelings. His niece would surely be his Achilles’ heel the rest of his years.

  Raylene glanced up and met his eyes. His heart tripped a little faster.

  The moment stretched long enough for him to see her expression change. Her eyes showed curiosity and something more…uncertainty? As though she’d grown self-conscious, she composed herself and the intimacy was lost.

  “I would have helped you set out the meal.” Carrying the milk pail, Meriday entered the kitchen from the back door.

  Raylene quickly moved away from Tanner. “It was easily done.”

  “Lula Mae produces an excellent quantity,” Meriday said. “There is always more than enough milk for Lillian, and now for cooking and even drinking if we like.”

  Tanner nodded. “She has a good diet, and she is milked often.”

  “Thank you for cleaning her pen,” Meriday said to him.

  “It’s the least I can do, and it’s a lot less work than cleaning horse stalls.”

  The three of them shared a laugh as the other boarders joined them.

  “Is there any of that pie left?” Almira asked.

  Raylene removed the cloth from a wrapped dish, revealing another golden crust. “Meriday made two pies, so yes, we have enough for this evening.”

  As they ate, the topics of conversation included their dinner guests. Everyone had enjoyed getting to know the Baileys, and especially appreciated the new reverend’s singing ability and humor.

  “I’m sure Mr. Holden finds young Winston an excellent addition to his classroom,” Emerald said. “I would certainly have enjoyed him as a student.”

  “The lad has an affinity for the horses,” Tanner shared.

  They ate, and he fed Lillian. She slept, so he laid her down and helped clean up.

  “You leave this to us and have some time to yourself,” Raylene told him. “Read your book.”

  “Thank you. I will. Good-night.” He picked up Lillian from the basket, carried her up the stairs, and placed her in the cradle. Half an hour later, he was falling asleep, so he lowered the lamp wick and settled in for a few hours’ sleep.

  Tanner was used to being awakened by fussing or even all all-out wail, so he opened his heavy eyelids, prepared to go get a bottle of milk. This sound wasn’t coming from Lillian, however. He cocked his head and listened. A bleating cry reached him, then an almost-screech that ended abruptly. He leapt from his bed and pulled on his trousers. Grabbing his Colt revolver, he checked it for a ball, then ran down the back stairs and out the kitchen door to the sound of squawking chickens.

  In the moonlight, he spotted a coyote slinking away behind the goat pen. Raising his revolver, he ran after it, but the predator darted through trees and into tall grass. He didn’t have a hope of finding the animal in the darkness. He glanced at the empty pen, but approached the shed, uncaring of his bare feet. He flipped the latch and the door creaked open. The moon illuminated an animal lying on the ground inside. The coyote had made quick work of killing the goat by going for its throat. Tanner had interrupted the feast.

  It was too dark to see how the predator had gotten inside. He backed out and glanced at the back of the dark house. No movement.

  Tucking the gun into his waistband at his back, he closed door and secured it once again. He would bury her in the morning.

  He checked on the coop, and the chickens were all safely inside. There was a jar of milk in the root cellar, and that would be sufficient until he could locate a replacement. He couldn’t let Raylene or Meriday come out to milk Lula Mae in the morning and learn that way. He pumped water as quietly as possible and washed his feet before going back in the house.

  It was nearly time for Lillian to wake, so he prepared a bottle and fed her. By the time she slept again, it was early morning, but he couldn’t wait. He knocked on Raylene’s bedroom door.

  Chapter Eight

  A minute later, a dim light came on underneath. Clutching a cotton wrapper to her throat, she opened her door. “Tanner? What is it?”

  He’d never seen her hair out of order, but now in the yellow lamplight, her blond tresses fell over her shoulder in charming disarray.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “All right.” She widened the opening and stepped out into the hall in her bare feet.

  “Let’s go downstairs,” he said.

  She followed him down the back stairs. He opened the door on the cast iron stove and added wood, placed kindling atop, then lit it. The flame grew, the sticks cracking and popping as they burned.

  “I filled the kettle for tea,” he told her.

  She set it on the stove. “What do you need to tell me?”

  He pulled out a chair. “Have a seat.”

  She perched on the wooden chair. The heat from the stove reached them as he sat across from her.

  “L
ast night a coyote got into the shed. I thought the structure was secure and that she’d be safe at night. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Lula Mae?” she asked.

  He took a breath and said what had to be said. “The coyote killed her. I’ll bury her this morning, and I’ll go buy another goat immediately.”

  She drew a line on the table with her thumbnail, then folded her hands and looked aside. “All right.”

  “I’m sorry, Raylene. I’ll tell Meriday.”

  “No. I will tell her.”

  “I’m sorry. I truly thought she was safe. I’ll ask advice from the people who raise the goats and figure out how to make the pen and shed safer.”

  She nodded. “Please don’t apologize to me. Things happen. And she was your goat.”

  She and Meriday had been the ones who’d become attached to the animal, however. After a moment, she checked the water, got a teapot from the cupboard and filled a metal strainer with tea leaves.

  Her lack of reaction puzzled him. “If you’re going to be all right, I’ll bring Lillian down asleep and go out to take care of the burial. Then I’ll do morning chores before heading out. Hopefully, it won’t take long.”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Go ahead. I’ll start breakfast and wait for Lillian to wake.”

  While checking the shed, he discovered worn and split boards along the ground at the back, where the coyote had dug underneath. He felt responsible, and Raylene’s lack of reaction bothered him. He buried Lula Mae and smoothed dirt over the grave, then walked to the livery. The whole time he cleaned stalls and tended to horses, he considered Raylene’s calm response to the news. He was responsible for providing the means to feed his niece, and he’d been negligent in protecting the animal. Samuel was there to handle anyone who came to rent a horse or rig, so Tanner saddled Solomon and rode out.

  By mid-morning, he pulled the cart holding a new goat home behind his horse.

  Raylene and Meriday were in the backyard, hanging laundry. Raylene had Lillian wrapped in a long strip of flannel fashioned to hold her against her midriff as she worked.

  “That’s clever,” he said.