Chase (Prairie Grooms, Book Four)

by Kit Morgan

  Lena stared off into the distance and let her eyes rest on the prairie and what trees dotted the landscape. It was a beautiful picture and for a moment, she was able to draw strength from it. “We'd better get started,” she suggested. “Before I become too faint of heart, and flee for my life.”

  “Oh for heaven's sake, don't be so dramatic,” said Edith as they headed for the house.

  “On the contrary,” said Lena. “I'd much rather be dramatic. It's something I've always aspired to, but have never been able to achieve.”

  “What you talking about?”

  Lena glanced around as if she was about to tell her a huge secret. Now that she thought on it, she was. “I've always wanted to be on the stage.”

  Edith stopped at the cabin’s front door. “You have?”

  “Yes, but it's not something a lady can do. In fact, it's highly frowned upon in England.”

  “Well honey, that's not how it is out here. You need to talk to Preacher Jo and Annie. They're in charge of the church’s Christmas play. We started it a couple years back, and this will be our third one come this winter.”

  Lena stared at her. “Really? A play?”

  “Sure, the whole town gets involved. It's a lot of fun!”

  Lena opened the door and stepped inside. “I had no idea. I'm so glad you told me!” She looked around the cabin with renewed strength. “What shall we do first?”

  “Well, if I had known telling you about the Christmas play would give you this much spunk, I'd have told you yesterday.”

  Lena laughed. “I've always wanted to be in a real play, but was never allowed to. You don't know how happy you've made me.”

  “We'll see how happy you are after we've dug the garden.” With that they set to work.

  It took a few hours, but between the three of them (or rather two of them as Jefferson had to take frequent breaks on account of the injuries the outlaws dealt him) they got the job done. Edith brushed dirt from her hands and surveyed their work. “I'll go fix something for lunch. Jefferson, why don't you teach Lena how to gather eggs?”

  “I can do that,” he said. He looked at Lena. “You ready, or do you need a break?”

  Lena leaned over, her hands on her knees in a hunched position. “Give me a moment,” she said as she caught her breath. Edith and Jefferson exchanged quick look smile.

  “Well hurry it up,” he said. “Time’s a wasting.”

  Lena straightened, groaned, then nodded at him.

  He led her to the barn where he took a basket that hung on a peg, then motioned her back outside. “Aren't we going to gather eggs?” she asked.

  “Yes, but the chickens aren't in the barn. They’re over there,” he said and pointed to a small structure.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  “It's the henhouse. It’s where your chickens lay their eggs.”

  She'd noticed chickens wandering around barnyard the day before, but gave them no mind, nor had she noticed the structure that housed them. “I say, but this looks like it's going to be tricky.”

  “Ain't nothin’ to it,” he told her. “Now watch.” They went inside the tiny structure where a half a dozen hens roosted. Jefferson reached under one of them and pulled out a couple of eggs. The chicken didn't bat an eye.

  “That wasn't so hard,” said Lena with a smile. “Let me try.”

  Jefferson handed her the basket. “Go ahead.”

  Lena went to the next hen and reached her hand out. The bird gave a loud squawk, and pecked at her. “Ouch!”

  “They can sense fear, you know,” Jefferson told her in a serious tone.

  Lena glared at him and swore he tried to hide a smile. “Mr. Cooke, please refrain from enjoying this.”

  His shoulders shook but he kept his mouth shut. He waved at her to go ahead and try again. This time, the chicken let her take an egg from beneath it. “You did it!” chuckled Jefferson.

  Lena stared at the egg in her hand. “I did, didn’t I?” She put it in the basket. “Let me try again.” Soon she'd gathered the eggs and was able to return to the house with pride. “Look!” she told Edith as she entered. “Look what I did!”

  “Well, well, don't those look fine. We can use them to bake a cake, and the rest for Chase's supper.”

  “Eggs for supper?” asked Lena.

  “Sure,” said Edith. “Folks do it around here all the time. He's got some bacon in his smokehouse. You can cook some of that up for him as well.”

  “Bacon and eggs for dinner?” mused Lena. “I never would have thought of it.”

  “Darlin' there's a lot of things you never would've thought of,” said Jefferson. “I'm glad we agreed to this cockeyed idea of your sister’s. I think it's helpin’ you a lot.”

  Lena smiled. “You know what? I do believe you're right.”

  Fourteen

  Lunch consisted of sliced apples, jerky, and a few carrots. But it might as well have been a nine-course meal, as hungry as Lena was. She never thought such simple fare would taste so good. She didn't know work could give one such a healthy appetite.

  “Now I’m going to teach you how to do the mending,” said Edith as they cleaned up after their meal.

  “While you two do that, said Jefferson. “I'm going to go see what I can hunt up out on the prairie.”

  Edith nodded as she led Lena into the living area. There was a loveseat and two chairs in front of the fireplace, and a small table with a lantern. “Do you know how to start a fire?” Edith asked as Jefferson headed out the door.

  Lena shook her head. “I had a scullery maid for that.”

  “Ain’t no scullery maids here. You're going to have to learn how to do it yourself. But right now, let's take care of your man's shirts. I swear Chase can't keep a button intact if his life depended on it. At least two were missing off of each shirt I mended yesterday.”

  “How does he manage to lose so many?”

  “He's a blacksmith,” said Edith with a shrug. “It's hard work with all that bending and stooping working on those horses.”

  Several shirts Lena had washed the day before, lay across the back of one of the chairs. Edith handed her two, and took one for herself. “Where do I start?”

  “Take a look at them and see what needs to be done,” Edith instructed.

  Edith was right, Chase was hard on his clothes. Each shirt had at least three buttons missing. “I say, but I'm going to go through a lot of buttons, married to this man.”

  “You'd better go to the mercantile and have Mrs. Dunnigan make you up a sewing kit of your own. You're going to need it.”

  “How right you are,” agreed Lena.

  They hadn’t been sewing long when Chase walked through the door. Lena stood, and for whatever reason, hid the shirt she was working on behind her back, then slowly brought it to the front again. “Hello.”

  He watched her the entire time, took his hat off, then hung it on a peg near the door. “Well now, don't you two make a pretty picture, doin’ your sewin’ by my fireplace? All we need now is a fire.”

  “Not at this time of day,” commented Edith. “The cook stove warms the house well enough and you know it.”

  “Just sayin’ what would make things cozy,” he said and winked at Lena.

  She blushed. Here we go again. Would she ever not blush in this man's presence?

  “What ya doin’ there sweetheart?” he asked.

  Lena's cheeks flamed at the endearment. “Mending,” she squeaked.

  “Mending, huh? My clothes can always do with some of that. Let's see what you've done,” he said as he held his hand out.

  She gave him the shirt she'd been mending and smiled, proud of her work.

  Chase held the shirt up for inspection and grinned back. “Well now, this looks mighty fine…” He took a closer look at it, and held it up with both hands. He then burst out laughing.

  “What's the matter?” asked Lena in a huff.

  He tried to still his chuckling, and failed miserably. “You do
ne sewed the button and the shirt together!”

  “I did, what?”

  “See?” he said as he held the shirt in front of her. “You sewed the button on all right, but you sewed it to both sides of my shirt.

  Lena's mouth dropped open in shock. She'd been so intent on getting the needle and thread through the material, she didn't realize she pulled the needle through not only the front of the shirt, but the back as well! How could she have made such a hideous error? “Oh no,” she groaned. “What a dolt!”

  “I don't know what a dolt is,” he said. “But I do know you’re mighty pretty when you're mad at yourself.”

  “I think I'll go outside and see if Jefferson's back,” said Edith with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

  Lena watched her in horror. “You're not going to help me fix this?”

  “Nope, I ain’t. You sewed it, you fix it.” Edith winked at Chase, set down the shirt she'd been working on, and left the cabin.

  Lena buried her face in the shirt and groaned again. “I'm so sorry!” She pulled the shirt away from her face and shrugged. “What's to become of me? I'll never get the hang of this! I can't cook, I can't sew, at least I can dig… I’ll be the death of you for…”

  She never got to finish. Chase had closed the distance between, and before she knew it, silenced her with the kiss.

  Unlike the one he gave her yesterday, he didn't pull away after a second or two. No, this kiss he took his time with, and went from capturing her lips to capturing her, as his arms wrapped around her, and pulled her into his chest. Any thoughts about her failed attempts at sewing were crushed, as his tongue delved into her mouth and took over. Never had she imagined being kissed so thoroughly before.

  She liked it. No. She loved it!

  Chase slowly raised his lips from hers, his breathing heavy, and rested his forehead against her own. “Now there's the kind of mending I like,” he whispered.

  Lena fought to keep her wits about her, and her feet on the ground. She didn't want to fall in love, not yet, not until she was sure she wasn't going to fail him as a wife. “I say, but I don't think you're going to find that in a sewing kit.”

  “Ahhh Lena,” he said as he ran his fingers through her hair, loosening its pins. You have no idea how you’re mending me.”

  “Mending you? I'm afraid I don't understand.”

  He looked into her eyes, and much to her surprise, pulled her even closer. Their faces were now within a hair's breath of each other. “Don't you know that it's not about how well you can cook, clean, or sew for me?”

  She shook her head, still not understanding. Tears stung the back of her eyes as the walls around her heart, the ones she used to protect it, cracked. The freeing of her heart began earlier that day when Edith told her about the Christmas play. “What on earth are you talking about” she whispered against his lips.

  “I'm talking about this, right here,” he said as he tightened his hold and kissed her again. Her knees gave way, she couldn't help it, and if he hadn’t been holding onto her so tight, she’d slip right to the floor. He broke the kiss, and before she could so much as breathe, whispered, “Loving me is what I want you to get good at. The rest you can work on along the way.”

  She gasped as her tears broke free. “But I'm such a failure at everything!” she choked out.

  He smiled as he gazed into her eyes. “Lena, the only one who thinks you're a failure, is you. If I wanted someone just to cook and clean for me, I might as well hire Mrs. Upton to come in and do it a few times a week. But that's not what having a wife is all about. It's about being able to give your heart to someone, and having someone to love. I can't tell you how hard this week has been for me. In fact, I can't tell you how hard it's been ever since I found out you were my mail-order bride. My heart’s just been dyin’ to meet yours. Do ya understand what I'm trying to say?”

  Lena's lower lip trembled. Was he serious? Was that what marriage was really about? Yes, she'd always wanted to marry for love, but apparently her idea of love and his were two different things. She had based hers on performance, hoping that her works would please him enough to make him fall in love with her. Yet here he was, willing to accept her as she was, whether she burned his pies are not. “What… What are you saying?”

  “I'm sayin’ I'm fallin’ in love with you, Lena Sayer. I think I had it for ya the first time I saw you at the Triple C.” He got down on one knee, took her hands in his, and held them against his forehead. “I'm sayin’ that you'd make me the happiest man in the world if you marry me right now. Today.” He looked up at her. “I'm sorry, Lena, but I can't wait until the barn raising. What do ya say? Will ya marry me?”

  She stood in shock. He was falling in love with her?! She looked around the cabin that would be her home. There was a purity, simplicity and beauty in it that was so different from her house in England. Where she came from it was all about what you had, where you lived, what you wore, and the circles you frequented. But out here in this wild country, amongst the rolling prairies, it all came down to one thing. Love.

  “I say, Mr. Adams. But I do believe I'm falling in love with you as well.”

  Chase stood and took her into his arms again. He stroked her cheek with the back of his finger, and then brought his lips to hers. “Then let's go see Preacher Jo, and not waste another minute,” he said against them. “When you burn my supper tonight, you'll do it is my wife.”

  She pulled her face away and looked him in the eye. “You mean… you won't mind if I burn your dinner?”

  “No ma'am, not so long as you do it is my wife.”

  Lena let out a small giggle, which turned to a laugh, then into an outright cackle.

  “I hope all that laughin’ means yes,” Chase spoke over her reverie.

  She looked at him, tried to calm down, and gulped for air. “I'm sorry… so sorry. I can't help myself. You've quite taken me by surprise. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say yes,” he said, his voice husky. He again crushed her against him, and lowered his mouth to hers.

  Say yes, Lena, say yes! She thought to herself. What kind of fool would you be if you deny him? A great one, she realized. She'd been so worried about what he thought of the work of her hands, that she hadn’t realized he was more interested in the workings of her heart. “Yes,” she whispered against his lips. “I'll marry you today.” He kissed her then, deep and slow, and swept his new bride completely away.

  * * *

  Fina ran her fingers over a bolt of delicate cream-colored lace, and let out a heavy sigh. “When do you suppose Sadie will allow Mr. Stone to court me?” she asked Apple as they meandered between display tables. Logan had driven them to town along with Imogene to get supplies for the barn-raising. Fina had given Wilfred Sadie's list, and the girls now waited as he filled it.

  “I haven’t the foggiest,” said Apple. “Besides, what's your hurry? After all, if you get married right away, then I shall be all alone.”

  “No you won't, silly. Cousin Imogene will still be here, and you are surrounded by our relatives at the Triple C.”

  Apple picked up a book from a shelf and began to thumb through it. “Just because you're surrounded by people, doesn't mean you don't feel lonely.”

  “Don't worry,” consoled Fina. “You won't be alone for long. Sadie will find someone to marry you.”

  Easy for you to say, you have a beau.”

  The door to the mercantile opened and Logan entered, followed by Levi Stone. Fina's eyes lit up, and she gave Apple a healthy nudge in the ribs. “There he is!” she whispered, breathless.

  Apple banged the book closed, and set it back on the table. “I might as well say my goodbyes to you now then.”

  “Oh stop being such a bore!” scolded Fina. “Can’t you be happy for Lena and me?”

  Apple watched as Levi's eyes gravitated to her sister’s, and locked. Fina, much to Apple's dismay, positively beamed. “Oh, very well,” she conceded. “Go on, fall in love, get married, and have
twenty babies. See if I care.” She picked up the book again and, ignoring her sister, began to leaf through it.

  Fina glared at her before giving her attention back to her intended, who strolled across the mercantile like he owned it. She hadn’t been this close to him since the day of the funeral. She smiled, looked to the floor, and bobbed a small curtsy. When she looked up again, he stared right at her. “Good afternoon,” she greeted.

  “Afternoon ladies,” he said and tipped his hat, never taking his eyes from Fina.

  “What brings you to the mercantile?” Fina asked.

  “I thought I'd visit with Logan for a spell. Can I help it if he came into the mercantile?”

  “Why, Mr. Stone,” said Fina. “Are you making a joke?”

  “I suppose not, as no one is laughing,” he said dryly.

  Fina giggled, then noticed how Apple ignored the both of them. She kicked her sister in the shin to get her attention.

  “OW!” cried Apple “Whatever did you do that for?”

  “Don't mind Apple,” Fina told him. “She hasn’t been herself lately.”

  “Speaking of being one's self,” Apple said with a revengeful sneer. “Do you think women who snore are attractive?”

  Fina's lips pressed into a firm line. “Apple…” she warned.

  “And while were on the subject,” added Apple as she snapped the book shut, “a man desperately in want of a wife is said to sometimes have poor judgment. Do you agree?”

  “Apple!” hissed Fina. “Mind your tongue!”

  Apple's lower lip trembled as she set the book on the table. “I apologize. Fina’s right, I'm not myself. I truly hope you both will be very happy.” She gathered her skirts and ran for the door.

  Logan's arms snaked out and grabbed her. “Whoa there,” he said. “Let's not be running off by ourselves now, ya here?”

  Fina closed her eyes a moment before she looked helplessly at Levi Stone. “I'm so sorry, but I'm sure you know that Sam Jamison was her intended.”

  “Yes, I know.” He gave her a warm smile. “Go take care of your sister, I have to be getting back to work anyway.”