The Cowboy’s Bride Collection: 9 Historical Romances Form on Old West Ranches
Page 42
MAISIE HANACKER
1850–1879
Josiah tightened his hold on Duck’s reins and fought the urge to run Corra Jameson out of the private place where he talked to Maisie. But when she knelt and touched the rose curled around the marker, he feared his chest would explode. If he left, he’d give himself away. Instead, he sat stock-still in the saddle, praying Duck would sense the need for quiet.
Corra stood and looked around. An oak thicket shielded him and the horse, but he held his breath as tight as the reins until she hiked her skirt and headed for the creek. With that basket on her arm, she must be hunting berries.
As she withdrew, he backed Duck away and turned for the fence line he’d been following. For certain, she’d tangled his spurs. He dragged his sleeve across his brow and tapped Duck into a trot. He had cattle to check. A hard ride up the canyon would sweat the woman out of his system. Lord knew, he was grateful she had what Jess needed. And he was confident that his daughter would be ready for Beatrice’s visit by summer’s end.
He just hadn’t figured on Corra Jameson having what he needed, too.
Chapter 11
Premonition niggled Corra all the way to church—an unwelcomed irritation on what she had expected to be a pleasant outing. Truth was, what had begun as a daunting challenge with Jessica had, by degree, become a labor of love. Corra’s affection for the girl grew daily, signaling a painful departure at summer’s end.
And that was the problem. A worrisome barb threatened that her time at Hanacker Land and Cattle Company would end sooner than planned.
Sooner than she wanted.
Eleven-year-old Jessica was not the only Hanacker to steal Corra’s heart. She was quite fond of them all, particularly Josiah. He continued to snatch her breath every time he came near. Such as now, sitting next to her in his fresh shirt and string tie—a step up from his usual neckerchief. Dime-novel heroes paled considerably in the presence of this man who worked so hard and cared so deeply for his children and father. Could he care for her?
Heat flooded her face at the thought, and she turned away to check on Jessica and Joe in the back. The girl looked the picture of a perfect little lady. But oh, what a rambunctious spirit lay beneath the trappings! Today would prove the pudding.
Corra peeked in the picnic basket and Josiah chuckled beside her. “The way you keep looking in that basket makes me think you’ve got something alive in there. Something besides berry pie.” His gaze warmed her insides, and she was hard-pressed not to return his winsome smile. She just hoped the pies tasted as good as they smelled, for she’d seen his Adam’s apple bob when he walked in the kitchen this morning. The poor man nearly drooled like Rusty. She giggled.
He threw her a look. “What?”
“Just thinking.”
He held her in a steady gaze, waiting.
“About the picnic.” A partial truth. She pushed at her hair. “I hope there will be enough ice cream today. Letty makes a delicious strawberry flavor, and we may have to wrestle a place in line to get some of it.”
Oh dear, she shouldn’t have used that term, wrestle. What was happening to her deportment? The right side of Josiah’s mouth hitched up. What must he think of her unladylike ways?
After a shorter sermon than usual—due, no doubt, to Pastor Ward’s sweet tooth—the afternoon cleared to perfection for an outdoor gathering. Not too hot, nor rainy as she had learned the Colorado mountains could be of an afternoon. Jessica helped set out the pies, both of which she had made by herself. Pride tucked a dimple in the girl’s cheek as she took note of other desserts on the table. Even Corra was proud.
“If they had an auction, I’m sure your pies would go first.”
Jessica gave her a genuine smile then scooted the dishes a bit to the right. “Thank you, Corra.”
Her throat tightened. Jessica hadn’t called her anything the entire time she’d been at the ranch. Other than “ma’am” when her father got after her for being rude. Rather than wrap her arms around the waif, she gave her shoulders a quick squeeze. “Run along and play with the other girls. I’ll set out our plates.”
Jessica darted off like a scalded cat, headed straight for a group of boys where Joe stood a head taller than the others. Corra searched the grounds for Alicia, but the pastor called everyone to attention for prayer. She bowed her head and folded her hands until a deep “amen” jerked her eyes open. Josiah stood next to her, hat in hand, with a look in his eyes that made her shiver. Could he tell?
He picked up two of their four plates and handed her one. “Hungry?”
“Shouldn’t we gather the children first?” The tin plate cooled her sweaty hands.
“And take a chance at missing out on a piece of that berry pie you watched like a hawk all the way to town?” His grin spun a delightful thread through her middle and she followed his suggestion. It was entirely too easy to attach herself to him. And entirely improper.
Sitting across from her sister’s family settled Corra’s nervous tension. Josiah’s gentlemanly ways and good humor soon broke her hold on worry. And overhearing Letty’s boastful conversation on Corra’s behalf with the head of the Women’s Society didn’t hurt, either.
As the afternoon waned, she secreted a large slice of Jessica’s pie and tucked it into the basket for Pop. Ice cream wouldn’t make the trip, but an extra chicken leg and a generous serving of Mrs. Miller’s potato salad would. Pleased that she could bring a little joy to the old rancher, she added the plates and utensils and closed the top. A scream split the air and she dropped the whole thing. Jessica!
Skirts a-flying, Corra ran in the direction of the ruckus, beating Josiah to the other side of the wagon. Joe was helping a heavier, bloody-nosed boy to his feet. Corra dropped to her knees in front of Jessica and gripped her arms. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
A blue-eyed grin met Corra’s breathless question, and Joe laughed behind her. “That wasn’t Jess who screamed, Miss Corra. That was Beau here, after Jess walloped him good.”
Corra sucked in a gasp and tightened her grip on Jessica.
“He said I couldn’t ride as good as a boy. Said my pa never let me trail cows up from the Pecos. He called me a liar.”
“Oh, Jess.” Corra covered her mouth in horror as the offender’s mother ran to catch him up in her arms.
“Apologize, Jess.” Josiah’s deep command sent a chill up Corra’s back and left no room for argument.
“Sorry.” Jessica hung her head, but Corra caught the gleam in the girl’s eye. Turning her toward the pump and horse trough, she bit her lip to keep from commending the girl. Josiah may want his daughter to be a lady, but never let it be said that Jessica Hanacker couldn’t defend herself. Corra schooled her emotions and helped Jessica wash her hands and face. So much for impressing the busybodies at church. And meeting her employer’s expectations.
On the ride home, Jessica sat on the bench between them so Josiah could hear the story again without interruption.
“What else could you have done besides hit the boy?”
Jessica shrugged at his question and stared at the reddened knuckles of her right hand.
Corra took that small, fearless hand. “You could have told your father the boy was being mean, and he would have handled it.”
“I ain’t no tattletale.”
“You aren’t a tattletale.”
Blue eyes squinted up at her. “That’s what I just said.”
Josiah’s shoulders bounced with a snort, and he slid a look at Corra. “Bet he doesn’t call her names again.”
He wasn’t angry? He wasn’t going to fire Corra for failing to teach his daughter to scream and faint and let someone else defend her? The relief was heady, but she kept it to herself. She’d never encourage such inelegant behavior as resorting to fisticuffs, but privately, she was proud of Jessica. The girl would not be easily taken advantage of when she reached young womanhood.
“Climb on back.” Josiah gave his daughter a wink and jerked hi
s thumb toward the wagon box. She clambered over as if wearing britches and spurs rather than a dress and petticoats. Lord, help them.
Josiah adjusted himself a bit closer to Corra, trapping an errant fold of her skirt. Her pulse hiked to match the clopping horse hooves. The sense of family welled up inside her again, but she best not let it attach. Nothing would come of her three months on the ranch. Nothing other than helping a tomboyish girl become a young lady.
Chapter 12
Josiah stuck the pitchfork in the ground and mulled over the situation. Ever since Jess’s episode at the church picnic, she’d been quicker to help Corra with the household chores. She didn’t balk when asked to clear the dishes or hang wet clothes on the line. Of course, he didn’t see everything that went on between the two of them. He and Joe were busy breaking colts and mucking stalls. But he wasn’t so busy that he didn’t catch the way his family took to Corra, her cooking, and her Bible reading—the way she made a body nearly taste and smell the goings-on, as if they happened yesterday. And he had to admit, something in Corra’s manner stitched up a piece of his heart that had needed mending for a long time. He rubbed an itch on his chest. Morning chores could wait till after breakfast.
He headed for the house with a need to see Corra before he got caught up in the day. When he walked in, she and Jess stared as if expecting bad news. He hung his hat on a peg and addressed his daughter.
“Why don’t you pick eggs this morning? Let your grandpap sleep in.”
She cut a look to Corra, who handed her the egg basket, then without a word, ducked out the front door. Josiah took his seat at the table. “Coffee smells good.”
Corra looked at him like he had horns growing out of his head. Her hands pressed down her apron, and before he could holler, she grabbed the pot on the back of the stove.
He shot from his chair at the clatter and gripped her wrist. Her face went white, and he pulled her to the sink and shoved her hand into a pan of water. She grimaced and bit her lip. He reached for a towel and swathed her hand then pulled her close. She stood rigid as a tree, but he kept his arms around her until she relaxed, molding perfectly against his body.
Lord, how right it felt to hold her. How long he’d wanted to. He cupped the back of her head, and his heart stumbled when she looped her free arm around his waist. She turned her cheek against his chest, and he knew she could hear the pounding. Would she consider staying on with a man who knew nothing but breaking broncs and branding calves? Without letting her go, he reached for the grease can on the stove. Then he took a half step back, unwrapped her hand, and gently smoothed the fat on her blistered palm. She winced, but her teeth held her bottom lip while she watched him with brimming eyes. They glimmered like the creek of a morning, and he feared he would drown in them.
The sound of boots on the porch shoved them apart, but he held to Corra’s wrist. “Are you all right?”
She blinked, and the simple act pushed tears down her cheeks. She swiped them away with a nod and a whispered “yes.” A smile trembled on her lips. “Thank you.”
The door banged open and Jess blustered in like a summer storm. “Twelve! I got a full dozen. Bet that’s more than Pop ever gets.” She hauled up and glanced first at Josiah and then at Corra and then at Corra’s hand. “What happened? I wasn’t gone that long.”
Corra sucked in a laughing sob and swiped at her eyes again. “I’m glad you missed the lesson.”
Jess set the egg basket on the counter. “What lesson?”
“The lesson on why we never lift the hot coffeepot without a pad or towel or bunched apron.”
“Why’d you go and do that?”
Corra blushed. “A dozen you say?”
Pop’s door squeaked open. Joe came in from the barn, and before Corra could get her bearings, everyone was at the sink washing. Jessica took over without being told, and Corra stepped back to watch. In a quick moment the table was set, the food in the center, and fresh coffee set to cooking on the stove. Josiah mopped up what she’d spilled on the floor.
Heat flushed her face and her hand throbbed. She wanted nothing more than to run to her room and close the door. Not because of the pain, but because of the way she’d felt in Josiah’s strong embrace. Would she ever be able to look him in the eye again? She had willingly wrapped her arm around him. Because she wanted to.
She skirted the table and took two eggs from the basket. “Rinse these for me, please, Jess, then break them into a bowl and separate the yolk from the white.”
Jess did as she was asked. Perhaps she already knew the egg-white treatment. If nothing else, she’d get a second lesson today. Corra gingerly wiped away most of the grease, smeared the egg whites on her hand, and wrapped it in clean toweling before taking her seat at the table. Josiah raised his brows in a silent question, and she quickly nodded and looked away. How tenderly he had treated her wound and held her in his arms. And how reluctantly she’d left them.
He bowed his head. “Thank You, Lord, for this good food and the hands that prepared it. Please heal the burn, Lord. Amen.”
“What burn?” Joe spooned eggs onto his plate.
“Corra blistered her hand on the coffeepot.” Jessica helped herself to the hotcakes and passed them to her father.
“Why’d she do that?”
“That’s what I asked.”
Both children eyed Corra, mouths full but closed as they chewed—another small blessing. Josiah filled her plate and set it before her then laid his hand on her arm. “Can you manage with your left hand, or do you want me to feed you?”
The children snorted and Pop cackled. If Corra’s hand were not stinging like fire, she’d knock that grin off Josiah Hanacker’s face and him out of his chair.
And then she’d kiss him.
Chapter 13
By the first of August, daylight stretched to its limits and Josiah got more accomplished than he expected. The four-year-old mare he’d picked out for Corra was coming along nicely, and in a few short weeks, they’d be rounding up steers for market, branding late calves, and cutting out a dozen horses for sale. And Beatrice would arrive in all her snobbery and put them to the test. His hands fisted involuntarily, and he shook them out, halfway repenting for what he thought of her.
At supper that night he asked Corra if she needed anything from town. She laid her napkin on the table and looked at the cupboard as if mentally calculating their stores.
“I can make a list if you’re planning on driving in.” She gave him that straight look. “Or I could ride in with you and say hello to Letty.”
He sopped up his gravy with a chunk of bread, trying to swallow his pleasure with the mouthful. “That’d be fine. I plan on leaving tomorrow morning early.” He wiped his mouth and eyed Jess and Joe and Pop. “You three can keep things running smooth, can’t you?”
Pop chuckled and buttered his bread. Jess’s shoulders slumped and Joe just kept eating. It was settled, then. He’d have the day to himself with Corra, something he’d wanted for a while. He didn’t have much time left, and a new thought had been stirring his gut.
By sunup the next morning, Josiah’s chores were finished and Rena stomped in the harness. Breakfast was on the table when he walked inside, Jess and Joe in their places. But Pop hadn’t shown. Josiah caught Corra’s eye as he washed at the sink, and she gave him her quiet smile. Nearly jerked his heart out of his chest. He took a deep breath, pulled the towel off the hook, and stepped closer. “You hear any stirring from Pop’s room?”
She laid a reassuring hand on his arm and sent fire up his sleeve. “Joe checked on him. He’s just sleeping hard. I’ll save back a plate for him.”
Josiah had a mind to take her in his arms and kiss her right then and there. And he would have if she hadn’t picked up a plate of hotcakes. He went around to his seat, and Jess was already holding her hands out. His throat grew thick just thinking about the change in his family since Corra came. “Joe, say grace this morning.”
Stunned for a moment,
the boy bowed his head and offered a quick word of thanks, rushing toward the “amen” like a hen after scraps.
Table talk was sparse, and that suited Josiah just fine. He was having a hard time keeping his nerves from twitching off without him. He ate quickly and set his plate in the sink. “You two keep an eye on Pop. We’ll be back this afternoon.”
“We can handle it, Pa.” Jess straightened her shoulders and reached for another hotcake. “Ain’t that right, Joe?”
Josiah cocked a brow.
She grinned. “Isn’t that right?”
Her brother laughed with his mouth full and nearly choked. Jess slapped him on the back, and Josiah headed for the door. “I’ll wait in the wagon.”
“Give me a minute.” Corra’s voice held that smile but he wouldn’t look at her. Not if he was going to spend the morning in her company without making a fool of himself.
He grabbed his hat and stepped out into the dawn-warmed air, fresh and clean. He filled his lungs and climbed into the wagon. Corra was good as her word and soon appeared with her bonnet on and a small handbag. He helped her up, and she planted herself right beside him. Not clear over at the opposite end like she had the day he’d brought her to the ranch. Seemed a little closer than on Sunday mornings, too. Maybe there was hope for the day after all.
Excitement twisted Corra’s fingers around her reticule draw. A stolen moment with Letty. The activity of other people going about their business. The train. Since learning she’d have this unexpected break in her routine, she had barely contained herself.
And riding to town alone with Josiah? That had pinked her cheeks this morning when she looked in the mirror, scolding herself for not avoiding his solitary company. But ever since she scalded her hand and he drew her into his strong embrace, well…