Mandy and the Missouri Man

by Linda Ford

  She stared at the spot and tried to reconcile her varying views of this man. A big bad wolf concerned about baby birds and a younger sister. She didn’t know what to make of him.

  Trace had moved higher up the hill and paused as if something caught his interest. “Mandy, have a look at this view.”

  It was likely something she’d seen before. In fact, there wasn’t a view around here she wasn’t familiar with, but she wondered what drew his admiration and climbed to his side.

  “You can see up and down the valley for miles. It looks like a good country.”

  “As good as any, I suppose. There’s plenty of game, not too many people, and if I believed all the tales, rubies and gold and other treasures ready for the picking.”

  “Sounds like you don’t believe it.”

  “Just ’cause someone says it, don’t make it true.”

  He pulled his gaze from the view to study her.

  She met his look, letting him know she would defend her statement if need be.

  “You’re one suspicious woman, you know that? Don’t you trust anyone?”

  “Only God and my sisters.” Though sometimes she found it easier to trust her sisters. At least she could demand an explanation from Glory or Joanna. Seems with God you just had to accept what He sent your way, even if you didn’t understand the whys or wherefores. Levi said that’s what faith was.

  Trace continued to study her. “Guess we’re in much the same situation. I only trust my sister, and I try to trust God.” He looked regretful. “Sometimes it’s not easy to do.”

  Their gazes went on and on, silently sharing secret doubts and fears, and so much more she couldn’t begin to understand. “So what’s your reason?” she asked.

  “For what?”

  “Being so narrow in your trust.” She almost shivered at how quickly his expression changed before he turned back to eyeing the view.

  “I guess everyone has their grounds.”

  “True.” But not everyone’s reasons made a sister hide inside a tent during the heat of the day nor turn a man’s expression to granite in the blink of an eye.

  “I see someone riding up the other side.” He pointed. “Riding like a madman.”

  She moved closer. Saw the rider. “It’s Glory. She always rides crazy. She’s going to see her preacher man.”

  Trace chuckled. “You say that with a great deal of expression, but I can’t tell if it’s pride or regret or something else.”

  She tipped her head to consider it. “I suppose it’s both. Glory is too wild to marry a preacher, but Levi doesn’t seem to mind.”

  “So what’s the regret?”

  She thought she’d spoken both, but his question forced the truth to the surface. “Our family is getting divided into pieces. I’m not sure I like it.”

  “It’s part of life. I thought all girls looked forward to growing up and getting married. I know Cora did.”

  The way his voice dropped and he clamped his mouth shut, Mandy knew he meant she had at one time, but that time was over. She wondered why. Tried to think of a way to frame a question. But he spoke again before she could.

  “Now we have a new home to look forward to and a new life. At least if I don’t spend my days staring out at the view.” He clucked at the horse and moved on.

  Mandy stayed where she was, watching Glory until she raced out of sight. Good thing Joanna couldn’t see her reckless haste or she’d worry. With a deep sigh, she turned away.

  Trace had chosen a tree not far away and tackled it with the ax. A wide stance allowed him a generous swing at the trunk. She watched the muscles across his back work with each swing. A strong man. A gentle man who considered the safety of tiny birds. But a man with a secret that made him deny friendship and keep his sister in hiding.

  The sort of man she would do well to steer clear of.

  And yet. . .

  She pushed her hat more firmly on her head. What did it matter? She’d build her house, sleep in it, and win the land. He’d have to move somewhere else. He and his secretive sister.

  Mindful of the lesson on falling trees, she cut down more spindly things and dragged them back. By the time Trace returned, she had several more in place. He might bring in bigger ones, but she could set six for every one of his, so it equaled out.

  She stared at the position of the sun. Time to return to the stopping house and help Joanna. Which left Trace plenty of time to continue building without competition. “I have to go help my sister.”

  He nodded. “Fine by me.”

  “Well, it’s not fine by me. It’s not fair. You can work several hours more a day than I can.”

  He spared her the briefest of glances. “Don’t remember any-thing in our agreement about having to work the same hours.”

  “A gentleman would offer.”

  He didn’t even bother to lift his head but continued trim-ming the log. “A lady would honor her word.”

  “Surely you don’t expect me to neglect my duties at home? That wouldn’t be fair to Joanna.” She loaded every word with as much guilt as she could dredge up, hoping to persuade him to agree he wouldn’t work when she wasn’t able to.

  “Mandy Hamilton, I can’t believe you’re trying to change the rules after we’ve agreed. You could have specified any conditions before the fact. But not after.”

  “Oh.” She clenched her hands into fists. “I perceive you are a most unreasonable man.”

  That brought him to his feet to stride toward her. He didn’t stop until they were toe-to-toe. She met his glare with one equally as narrow-eyed.

  “I do not consider it unreasonable to expect a person—man or woman—to honor an agreement. To live up to what they’ve promised. Or to be loyal to another.”

  She stared, surprised at his words, then backed up a pace. “I will indeed honor our agreement if you are unwilling to concede to changes. As to promises and loyalty, I think you are not talking about me.”

  He pulled himself taller and crossed his arms over his chest. “I expect nothing less than complete trustworthiness.”

  Again she wondered if he meant her. But how could he? He had no more reason to trust her than she had to count on him.

  She didn’t trust easily. Certainly wouldn’t be opening her heart to a man full of dark secrets. A man who said promises had no value, loyalty was to be questioned, stated he didn’t need friendship. . .and was hiding his sister.

  He turned back to his task. Clearly he could not be trusted.

  She would not let little hints of kindness and brotherly loyalty cause her to think otherwise.

  FOUR

  The evening chores done and the guests settled down for the night, the three sisters withdrew to their bedroom.

  Joanna opened up their mother’s Bible. Shortly after Levi had shown up in Bonners Ferry, they’d begun the habit of reading from the scriptures. Joanna sat on her bed facing Glory and Mandy, who shared a bed—at least, until the wedding in a few more weeks.

  Mandy tried not to think of one of her sisters moving on. The bed would seem wide and lonely without Glory. Glory was a year old when Mandy was born. She couldn’t remember a time she wasn’t able to reach out and touch the comforting presence of her sister. Or turn to their eldest sister for comfort and guidance.

  Joanna studied each of them as she spoke. “Levi read from the Psalms on Sunday. I enjoyed it so much I thought I’d read there tonight.” She turned a few pages. “Psalm one hundred forty-six.” And she read.

  Mandy listened, hoping for an answer for the turmoil in her heart. She didn’t want Trace on her land. She didn’t want to be his friend, even though she offered to befriend Cora. And why did Cora hide? Most of all, why did Mandy’s thoughts head one direction then switch to something else whenever she was around him? In fact, he was nowhere near, and it was happening again.

  “‘Put not your trust in princes, nor in the son of man, in whom there is no help.’”

  Mandy pressed her fingers to her mouth t
o stifle a giggle.

  Joanna stopped reading. “What’s funny?”

  “God telling us not to trust men.” Her chuckle was half snort.

  Glory pushed her, causing her to fall over on the pillow. “Not all men are untrustworthy. . . .”

  Joanna and Mandy knew what was coming next. They chorused the words with her. “Levi’s not.”

  The three of them grinned at each other.

  Mandy righted herself. “Glory, I wish you weren’t leaving.”

  “We can’t stay like this forever.”

  Ignoring them, Joanna finished reading the Psalm and closed the Bible. “Mandy, what’s this about a man up in the hills?”

  Glory nudged Mandy, signaling she’d told Joanna.

  Mandy jabbed her elbow in Glory’s ribs, thanking her for interfering. “All kinds of men in the hills.”

  “And building a house? What’s that all about?”

  Mandy gave Joanna her best innocent, wide-eyed expression. Not that she expected Joanna to be fooled. For half a penny, Mandy would love to tell her to mind her own business. Remind her she wasn’t Mandy’s mother. But she knew it would hurt her sister’s feelings, so she held back the words.

  Glory decided she had the right to answer for Mandy. “You know how Mandy always picks out a spot for a house. She can’t stop thinking Pa will come back, and we’ll be a family.” She turned to Mandy. “I keep telling you to give up on Pa. He ain’t got time for us, and besides, it’s too late. We’re grown up. Ready to start our own homes.”

  Mandy tightened her jaw. Knew she looked stubborn and petulant but didn’t care. “I’d welcome Pa back if he came.”

  Glory grabbed Mandy’s shoulder and shook her a little. “Think. When has Pa ever come looking for us? Never. We follow him. Or we used to. But no more. Stop pinning your hopes on him.”

  Joanna’s soft voice interrupted. “About this man. . .”

  “He’s on my land.” She ignored the way Joanna’s eyebrows went up. Glory snorted.

  “I tried to chase him off but he wouldn’t go. So we agreed that whoever builds a house first can file for the deed.”

  Joanna leaned forward. “Exactly how did you try and get rid of him?”

  At the same time Glory groaned. “You don’t know how to build a house.”

  Mandy chose to hear only Glory’s words and waved her hand dismissively. “We didn’t stipulate what sort of a house it had to be. Only that we had to live in it.”

  “Let me guess.” Glory sounded resigned. “You’re not building a regular house.”

  “Well. I’ll be able to live in it. That’s all that matters.” She described the rough structure she intended to put up. “Trace is putting up a real log house.” She told of his work.

  “Trace is the man?” Joanna prompted.

  “Trace Owens. And he has a sister who hides.” That brought a burst of interest from both sisters. “I’ve had only two glimpses of her. One from the hillside. And one when I won a shooting match with him.” Another flurry of interest and more explanation.

  When she finished telling how she’d outshot the man, Joanna and Glory laughed.

  Mandy waited for their amusement to abate. “Joanna, did you ever hear a story of the three pigs and a big bad wolf?”

  “Yes, I read it when I worked for the Johnsons. Mrs. Johnson bought a new storybook for Sally. That was one of the stories.”

  “Tell me what it was about.”

  Joanna told of three pigs who built houses—one of straw, one of sticks, and one of bricks. A big bad wolf blew down the first two houses, hoping to eat the pigs, but they found shelter in the brick house and captured the big bad wolf in a pot of boiling water.

  Mandy grinned. She liked what happened to the wolf. It meant she won.

  Her sisters demanded an explanation.

  But she would never admit he’d likened her to the middle pig. “He’s so confident he’ll beat me. But I can out do him without even trying.” She snorted. “The arrogant man.” Joanna and Glory chuckled and exchanged knowing looks.

  “What?”

  “Nothing—except he sounds like the perfect man for you.” Glory had the nerve to speak the words, but Joanna nodded.

  “He is not.” Mandy bounded off the bed and faced her sisters with clenched fists.

  Glory nodded, too. “Yup. He is. He shoots almost as well as you. Enough to earn a bit of admiration. And he’s building a solid house. What you’ve always wanted.”

  “You. Are. So. Wrong. This man has all kinds of secrets. Why his sister refuses to leave the tent. I don’t trust him. The last thing I need is a man I have to guess about.”

  Joanna gave her serious study. “I wonder if you’ll ever let yourself trust a man no matter how noble and true he is.”

  “’Course I will.” But he’d have to prove himself able to live up to her expectations. “I’m going to bed.” She stripped off her trousers and shirt and pulled on an oversize man’s nightshirt.

  Glory shook her head sadly. “Better start wearing some-thing a little more feminine than that if you ever expect a man to look at you.”

  Mandy’s face burned like fury. She grabbed a pillow and whacked Glory on the head. “No man better see me like this unless he’s married to me.”

  Glory fell down on the bed, giggling madly. “You’ll want to look all pretty and nice for the man you marry. You wait and see.”

  Mandy whacked her again for good measure. “You still wear trousers. Besides how many fancy nightgowns have you made?”

  Glory grabbed the pillow and tucked it under her head. “I might make a couple. You never know.”

  Joanna turned off the lamp. “Girls, go to sleep.”

  Mandy and Glory giggled just like they always did when Joanna grew motherly.

  But Mandy couldn’t fall asleep as a thousand questions raced through her mind. What did Cora hide? Why was Trace so touchy about friends and loyalty? Was he really intent on staying or just unable to resist a challenge? Where did he come from and why?

  And what made her heart float high up her throat just thinking of him?

  The next morning, she hurried about her chores, chomping with impatience, knowing Trace would spend these hours raising the walls of his house higher and higher.

  But finally she could leave. As usual, she called, “Be back later.”

  Joanna came to the door. “Hunting for meat or for men?” She laughed.

  Mandy flicked her the barest protesting glare then hurried up the trail. She wasn’t hunting any man.

  In fact, she was doing her best to drive him away.

  ❧

  Trace had been up since before dawn. After Mandy left yesterday he’d raised the walls by four logs, but he had a long way to go and planned to use every hour to his advantage.

  “Breakfast is ready.” Cora sat by the campfire, her bonnet hiding her face.

  “I don’t have time to eat.”

  “You must eat. You can’t keep working so hard while starving yourself.” She paused. “I wish you’d let me help.”

  She’d offered several times but Trace’s imagination pictured her being crushed by a runaway log. He would never let anything harm his little sister again.

  “It would go faster with two of us working. We’d be sure to win the contest and get the land. Otherwise. . .” She left the rest unsaid.

  “I have no intention of losing this place and my house to Mandy.” He turned to study Mandy’s structure.

  Cora joined him. “It isn’t much of a house.”

  “Like she said, we didn’t specify the sort of house it should be.”

  “Maybe you should do something similar. Just to win the land.”

  He contemplated the idea for several moments, shifting his gaze between the two houses. “No. I think I can win and still build a solid structure. Something we can live in for a long time.”

  “Do you suppose we will be happy here?”

  “As happy as we dare.”

  “Li
fe will never be the same.” She hunched forward, clutching her bonnet closer. “Do you think the Bushwhackers will follow us?”

  “They got what they wanted. They got rid of the Owenses. I don’t expect we’ll hear from them again.”

  “Then why do you always keep the rifle so close and jerk up from bed at the slightest sound?”

  He would not admit his fear that one of the marauding bunch would take it upon himself to track down Trace and Cora and finish what they’d started. “There could be wild animals around.”

  “Like Mandy pretending to be a wolf?” She giggled.

  “Glad you find it amusing.”

  “Admit it. She’s funny. I can never guess what she might say or do next.”

  “About as funny as a case of cholera.”

  Cora laughed.

  Trace tried to recall the last time she’d shown so much pure, sweet enjoyment. He allowed himself a brief moment of appreciation for Mandy if her presence allowed Cora to laugh.

  “She doesn’t put up with any nonsense from you.”

  Trace faced his sister. “Are you saying I’m overbearing? Difficult to get along with?”

  Cora backed up a space and held her hands up in mock defensiveness. “Heaven forbid. But. . .” She slowed her words. “Since the fire, you have grown. . .well, hard.”

  “Guess I’ve been forced to get that way.”

  “I know. And I’m not condemning you. But when Mandy is here, you seem to forget about the past. For just a bit.”

  “Maybe because she forces me to be on my toes. She continually surprises me.” He shook his head. “Who’d ever think she might put up a twig house?”

  “Like the second little piggy. Don’t think she fancied being called a piggy.”

  “Don’t imagine she would. But at least she didn’t challenge me to a gunfight at high noon.”

  They both laughed. It felt good and cleansing.

  “Let’s eat breakfast.” Cora took his arm and guided him to the fire to dish out thick oatmeal mush and fresh biscuits cooked in the outdoor oven. “I put stew to simmer. It will do us for lunch. You’ll have to bring me some if Mandy is here.”