by Kit Morgan
The look of delight on Mrs. Upton space disappeared. “What? I thought Grandma Waller would be chaperoning you tonight.”
“No ma'am, I'm afraid not.”
“Well, so much for romance! huffed Mrs. Upton. She went around the room again, and turned up each, and every lantern. She ended with the one nearest his table. “Humph! Fine! See if I help give love a chance! I hope you enjoy your dinner!” She then stomped back to her kitchen.
* * *
Not a moment later, Lena arrived with her cousin Imogene. Chase noticed the determined look in the elder cousin's eyes, and wondered what she was thinking. He stood and went to greet them. “Hello ladies. Fine evening isn't it?”
Lena smiled at him, and he fought his own excitement as his heart swelled. She was lovely, beautiful in fact. She wore a dark-blue dress that deepened the color of her auburn hair. It glistened in the lamplight, and her creamy complexion was perfection in the lantern’s soft glow. Chase had to swallow just so he could speak. “Would you like to sit down?”
“Of course she would,” snapped the elder cousin, Imogene. “It's what she came here for, isn't it?”
“Are you going to join us, Cousin?” asked Lena.
“Certainly not!” she growled back. “I’m going to take a seat over there at one of those other tables, and enjoy my novel.”
Chase noted the book in the woman's hand, and smiled in relief. He was afraid he'd be sharing the meal with her as well. “I'm sure Mrs. Upton won't mind if you do,” he told her. “She did prepare dinner for three.”
“Of course she did,” said Imogene. “She knew you'd have a chaperone. It’s only proper.”
“Of course,” he said. He then smiled at her and waited to see what she would do next. Thankfully she turned toward one of the tables she indicated earlier, and sat without another word. Chase fought the urge to sigh in relief, and instead pulled a chair out for Lena.
“Thank you,” she said as she seated herself. Chase went around the table and re-took his own seat, and then realized he'd never pulled a chair out for a woman before. There'd been no call for it in his twenty-six years. In fact, he'd never really courted a woman. Nor had he had the opportunity. But he didn’t want to think about that now. “Mrs. Upton prepared a roast chicken for us,” he said. He absently straightened the silverware on the table before he put his hands in his lap. He didn't want to appear nervous, but once again realized that he was.
“This is a lovely room,” she said. “I thought so the first time I saw it.”
He glanced around. “Yes, it certainly is. Mr. Van Cleet spared no expense.
She glanced at her cousin who was now engrossed in her book, then turned back to him. “I hope you don't mind my asking, but how big is your place?”
“My place? Well, I can tell you one thing, it's not as big as this.”
She laughed knowing he was making a joke. “I'm sure it's not. I was just trying to get an idea of the house I’m to live in.” Her cheeks stained pink as she looked away.
Was she embarrassed asking such a question? “It ain't big by any means,” he told her. “But it will serve well enough for the two of us. At least until a youngin’ or two comes along. Then we’ll probably have to add on.”
“Oh, yes, of course. Children…”
He stared at her. Did she not want children? This was the second time he noticed her hesitate when the subject was brought up. “I'd like to have three or four. That is, if it's agreeable to you.”
“I would think whatever amount of children we have is up to the Lord above, don't you?”
“Well, since you put it that way, then I'm asking Him for three or four.”
“Isn't one enough?”
“No ma'am, not when you're trying to run a farm.”
“But you’re a blacksmith, not a farmer,” she pointed out with a nervous laugh.
“I know, but I've always wanted to try my hand at farming, and I don't want to be a blacksmith forever.” Her upper lip twitched. On the one hand, he found it adorable, but on the other hand, he had to wonder what it signified. Was she as nervous as he was? Or was it simply the subject of children that put her on edge?
“Oh, I had no idea you aspired to be a farmer,” she said, her voice lowered a notch.
“I hadn’t at first. I came up to Oregon from San Francisco a few years back on account…” he snapped his mouth shut.
“On account of what?”
He shrugged. “My father and I had a disagreement.”
Her brow slowly rose at the disclosure. So, that’s what darkened his soul. She could see it in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I understand how disagreements between family members can … cause a lot of damage.”
He was about to comment when Mrs. Upton came into the room pushing a small cart. A tureen of soup and several bowls rattled atop it at her approach. Whatever sort of soup was in the tureen, smelled wonderful. “Here we are!” she said happily. “I made this especially for the two of you. I hope you like it.”
Imogene sniffed the air from her table, and gazed at the cart like a hungry bear. “I say, but that smells heavenly. What is it?”
“Something of my own invention,” said Mrs. Upton with pride. “If you like it, I’ll give you the recipe.” She filled three bowls, served them, and then disappeared back into the kitchen.
Chase looked into Lena's eyes. “I'll say the blessing.” She smiled at him, nodded, then bowed her head and closed her eyes. He smiled at the peaceful picture she made, then glanced at her cousin. Where as Lena looked like an angel with her head bowed and her eyes closed, Imogene looked like the devil about to go on a rant. She glared at her soup, spoon in hand, and waited. His eyes widened at the stark contrast between the cousins, before he too bowed his head. “Oh Lord,” he began. “I thank you for the pleasant company tonight. May you bless this food to our bodies and continue to give us great bounty, all the rest of our days. Amen.”
“Amen,” whispered Lena.
“About time,” said Imogene in a huff. She then began to eat.
Chase leaned toward Lena, and in a whisper, asked, “Is she always in such a hurry, when it comes to food?”
“No,” said Lena. “She's just been very cross today. I'm not sure why.”
Chase tasted the soup. “Mmm, well this ought to keep her quiet for a while. It's delicious!”
Lena also tasted it, and he watched as her eyes filled with pleasure. “You're right, this is good.”
“You'll have to ask Mrs. Upton to give you the recipe.”
She stiffened in her chair, and stared at him over her spoon, then took another taste. “I don't know I’ll ever be as good a cook as Mrs. Upton.”
“Sure you will. It just takes practice. I didn't always know how to shoe a horse.”
“Shoeing a horse may be an easier skill to acquire than learning to cook.’
“We can always trade,” he suggested. “You can become the new blacksmith, and I’ll stay at home and cook your meals.”
She laughed, a beautiful, wonderful sound that sent a chill up his spine. He itched to take her in his arms and kiss her, and wondered if he could make her emit another sort of sound.
He quickly took another spoonful of soup.
She watched him and smiled. “I'm afraid I would make a very poor blacksmith. The thought of harming such a magnificent creature is appalling to me.”
“Appalling? Pardon me ma'am, but you must not know much about smithin’ a horse. It don't hurt them none.”
“It looks like it does.”
“Not if you know how to do it the right way,” he told her. “Come by the livery stable tomorrow and I'll show you.”
She set down her spoon and smiled. “I'd… like that. But might I also ask if…” Again she hesitated, and he wondered what was wrong.
“Ask what?”
“Well, just as you had to practice and learn how to become a blacksmith, I've recently discovered I need to learn and practice how to… be a wife.”
He dropped his spoo
n. It landed in his bowl with a clatter as he gawked at her. “What?”
She swallowed hard. “I… that is…”
“She wants to get some practice in at your house before she marries you, you imbecile!” her cousin blurted from the other table.
Now Chase gawked at both of them. “Isn't that what you're doing out at the Triple C?” he retorted, ignoring the insult. “Ain’t Belle and Sadie learnin’ ya on how to cook and all that sort of thing?”
“Yes, yes they are,” said Lena. “But I also understand that the Triple C has more… shall we say… amenities, than you as a blacksmith, might have.”
He stared at her, his pride pricked. “What do you mean, as a blacksmith?”
She turned away a moment, then back, her face red. “My sisters and I thought it might benefit us both, if I practiced in the environment I'm to find myself in.”
“You mean you want to come to my place and learn how to cook?”
“Yes,” she said with a nod of her head. “That's exactly what I'm saying. Aside from cooking, I’d like to do your laundry and learn whatever else I can before we’re married. That way, I’ll know what I’m in for.”
He sat back in his chair, his mouth half open, as he took in what she was saying. “Is this a test?” he finally asked.
“No, it is not a test,” she informed him. “At least not for you, perhaps for me…”
“What's the difference if you learn how to cook out at the Triple C or my place?”
She began to fidget in her chair. Have you seen the Triple C’s kitchen?” she asked. “Do you have a kitchen like that?”
He sat up again. “No, can't say that I have. I think I'm beginning to understand.” He stared at his now-empty soup bowl. “All right, but I'm gonna be working down a the livery stable, and won't be there.”
“I understand. Jefferson and Edith have agreed to teach me what I need to know, and then bring me home. You'll never know I was there.”
He glanced at her cousin as she continued to eat her soup, then glared at them both. “Is she going out there with you?” he asked out the corner of his mouth.
“No. Only Edith and Jefferson,” she whispered back.
“Then it's a deal,” he said. “You can do your learnin’ at my place. Sounds logical since you're gonna be livin’ there in another week.” Her entire body relaxed. Is this what she'd been nervous about asking him? Having cooking and sewing lessons at his place? Now that he thought on it, if it would make her more comfortable, he was all for it.
“Thank you so much,” she said as she reached across the table and touched his hand. “You won't regret it, I promise.”
Chase stared at her hand, his skin feeling as if it had been seared by a mere finger. He wanted to kiss her so much it almost hurt. One week, he said to himself. One more week and he'd hold her in his arms and kiss her as much as he wanted. He just hoped and prayed he could hold out that long. The thought of having her in his home before they were married thrilled him. There was only one problem, he suddenly realized. His house looked like a tornado had gone through it. After she saw it, would she still be as keen to marry him?
Eleven
The rest of dinner was a quiet affair for which Lena was grateful. It was enough to ask her intended to practice her domestic skills at his home without coming across like some ninny twit. She watched him as they ate their way through the roast chicken, vegetables, mashed potatoes, and right into dessert. Which by the way was delicious. Mrs. Upton certainly could make a wonderful cake! They sipped their coffee in silence as Mrs. Upton cleared away the dishes. She was about to thank him for a wonderful evening when Imogene interrupted. “Lena,” she snapped. “Colin is waiting for us.”
Lena turned to her. “I distinctly remember him saying he would come fetch us once he finished his business. Don't you remember?”
“Yes, I remember,” she agreed. “But what sort of business would take this long? Something might be wrong.”
Lena turned Chase. “As much as I hate to admit it, I do believe she has a point.”
“Allow me to escort the two of you. It is, after all, getting dark,” he pointed out.
“That would be most kind,” said Lena. They got up from the table and joined Imogene where she sat. “Coming cousin?” asked Lena. “Mr. Adams has offered to escort us to the Waller's house.”
“So that's where Colin is?” asked Chase. “Down at Doc’s?”
“Yes,” said Lena. “He wanted to speak with Sheriff Hughes, Doc Waller, and that man, Cutty.”
“Poor ol Cutty. I bet he’s gettin’ pretty tired of all the questions folks keep askin’ him,” said Chase. “How would he know anything about the outlaws?”
“One never knows,” said Imogene, as she stood. “Lena lets go.” She suddenly stopped up short. “Mrs. Upton,” she called and turned. Mrs. Upton looked at her as she continued to put things away. “Thank you ever so much for the lovely meal. It truly was satisfactory.”
“Coming from you, I'll take that as a complement,” Mrs. Upton told her.
Imogene turned, started for the dining room doors, and without looking over her shoulder said, “Come along Lena. Don't waste the evening.”
Chase held out his arm and she took it. “Thankfully, I don’t anticipate a run in with outlaws between the hotel and the Wallers,” she told him. “But I am glad you're coming along.”
Chase smiled and patted the arm looped through his own. “Happy to be of service. Course, it's just my way of sneaking in a few more minutes with you, but that's all right.”
She’d blushed so much that evening, she didn't wonder if her cheeks were permanently pink. “If my company pleases you, then perhaps we could see each other tomorrow?”
“Why, I’d like that fine, Miss Lena. Seeing as how you're gonna be using my kitchen to learn how to cook, maybe you can cook somethin’ up for my supper.”
“I wouldn't put too much stock in my culinary skills as yet, Mr. Adams. At this point, I'm afraid I would disappoint you.”
He stopped and looked at her. “Call me Chase. I'd prefer it.”
She smiled and nodded. “Lena,” she said softly. “Just Lena.”
“Lena,” he repeated his voice low. “It's a beautiful name, I like the way it sounds.”
“I'm glad,” she said smiling. She didn't dare tell him her real name. With her luck, he'd like it, and want to call her by it all the time! She might not bear telling him she hated it.
They caught up with Imogene and continued down the street to the Waller's house. By this time it was after dusk and the evening was growing chilly. Lena hadn’t thought to bring a shawl, and wished she had. As if sensing her thoughts, Chase pulled her to him, and smiled. She inched closer in response. The heat from his body was heaven.
Imogene went straight to the front door and knocked. Doc answered. “Evenin’ folks,” he said. “I guess you must be looking for Colin.”
“Is he still here?” asked Imogene.
“Yep, he's here.” Doc opened the door the rest of the way, then motioned them down the hall toward the patient room. Once there, he opened its door and stepped aside.
Imogene entered first, stopped short, and gasped.
Lena and Chase followed her into the room. “Are you all right, Cousin?”
Imogene’s face paled as she stared at the man on the bed. “I… Yes… I'm quite all right,” she stammered.
“Perhaps we should wait outside,” suggested Lena.
“No, it's quite all right,” repeated Imogene. She turned to Colin, who sat in a chair beside the man's bed. “Are you finished with your business?”
Colin got up from the chair. “I was just about to read a few verses to ol’ Cutty here, before he turned in for the night. But I do still need to speak with Doc before we leave. Would you mind doing it for me, Cousin Imogene?”
“What?” she asked. “Me? Read?”
“You do know how to read, don't cha?” drawled Doc.
She spun to him. “Of co
urse I know how to read. Do I look like an idiot?”
Cutty choked. Colin was immediately by his side, but soon realized he was laughing. “Cousin, I really think you ought to read to him. Trust me, he's going to enjoy it.”
Imogene straightened. “I am not in the habit of reading to invalids.”
“Cousin Imogene!” scolded Lena. “Where's your Christian charity?”
Imogene slowly turned to look at Cutty and studied him. “I apologize,” she finally said. “I know you've been through a horrible ordeal, but I've seen worse.”
Cutty looked her up and down with his one eye. “Where?”
She stood proudly. “India,” she said with her usual ominous tone.
Cutty studied her anew. “India? Ain’t that where them funny fellas use those towels to put on their heads?”
“Turbans,” she corrected.
Colin made to move past her, and shoved the Bible in her hands. “Here, he likes the Psalms.” He then grabbed Doc and they left the room.
“Well, I never!” huffed Imogene.
“Come now, cousin,” said Lena. “What can reading to the poor man hurt? He must be bored to death being stuck in this room all day.”
Imogene studied him a moment, and her face softened. “Just a verse or two, then after that we leave.”
Lena smiled at Chase. “Don’t let her fool you, Cousin Imogene loves to read.”
“To myself,” she corrected.
“I read to myself too,” rasped Cutty. “But I can't hold a book.” He raised his bandaged hands for added effect.
Imogene looked at them, then to his half-bandaged face, missing hair, and other injuries as a result of the fire. “You poor wretch,” she muttered to herself.
“You can call me that when I'm dead,” he told her. “And I ain’t dead yet, so how's about you read to me now?”
“Well you don't have to get so ruffled about it sir,” she remarked.
“I ain’t gettin’ ruffled! You're the one done got ruffled when Colin asked you to read to me!”
“Stop it, the both of you,” said Lena. “Cousin Imogene, read to the man and we’ll listen as well.”