The Accidental Guardian

by Mary Connealy

  A spring bubbled out of a rock in one spot and created a little stream. He said a man who fights water always loses.

  Trace heard every word, though it didn’t make a lot of sense. That’s why he’d wanted to wait until spring, so he could learn all this.

  And then they started building and he did learn. He found out that if a man chinked out the corner of a log a hundred times, he started to get good at it. And Utah wouldn’t do it for him and wouldn’t put up with a poorly done corner. It wasn’t as if Utah was sitting around idle; he was working on the sides of the trees, getting rid of knots and branches, picking out logs straight as a lance, rejecting bent and warped trees. He said they’d be used for something else.

  Trace saw the sun high in the sky and wondered where the morning had gone. But sure enough, his stomach told him it was mealtime and beyond.

  Deb wanted neither to interrupt the commotion outside nor to run afoul of it. Add in the image of a tree falling on one of the children and she was firm in her course that all of them should stay to the house as much as possible.

  The only times they dared go outside were for a few minutes to the privy, and a quick run Deb made to Trace’s root cellar.

  “He’s got so much food, Gwen.” Deb heard the hungry excitement in her voice.

  Gwen laughed. “Better than on the wagon train?”

  “Well, considering we’ve had little but venison roasted in strips over a fire and hard biscuits for months, yes, better than the wagon train. By about a thousand miles.”

  She lifted up one arm to present a ham.

  Gwen’s gasp of excitement made Deb take her turn laughing. “I see you’re a bit tired of tough deer meat too, sister.”

  “And you’ve got potatoes. When is the last time we ate a vegetable?” Gwen moved to the cupboard under the sink and swung open a door. “There is plenty of flour down here, and I added to the sourdough starter.”

  “I found two bushels of apples, Gwen. We’ve got plenty of time to make pie.”

  Gwen was the better baker of the two of them, though Deb wouldn’t be ashamed of what she could produce.

  “I’ll make two of them,” Gwen declared. “We’ll have three hungry men to feed, and two pies will give everyone a generous slice for dinner and supper.”

  The chopping had gone on steadily since it had begun.

  “There was also yeast in the cellar. A cake of it that looks as if it’s never been touched. We can get a rising of bread started for the evening meal. I’ll put the ham on to boil, then get to the pies. I’ll stew potatoes to mash and make redeye gravy.”

  The menu made Deb’s mouth water.

  “The only thing he’s short on is pans.” Gwen’s brow furrowed, and she turned to study the meager contents of the cupboard.

  “Wait.” Deb looked around and saw the pack she’d gathered from the wagon train. “I got a pan out for breakfast, one I salvaged from the wagon train. But there were others I didn’t get out earlier. No amount of burning is going to damage a cast-iron skillet, and the murdering thieves didn’t bother themselves with stealing such practical items.”

  Ronnie was on his back, trying to put his toes in his mouth, with considerable success. Maddie Sue sat beside him, chattering away. Ronnie could say quite a few words back, though he wasn’t much fun to talk to, especially considering where his toes were. Fortunately, Maddie Sue preferred it if no one interrupted her, so they were getting along well.

  Gwen whispered, “You found the Scotts’ gold?”

  Deb nodded. “And some from the other four wagons. Abe was the one who told them how to conceal their coins, so I knew right where to look. There were a few more things I wished later I’d picked up. More pans. The hardware from the harnesses. Even the hubs from the wagons—they’d be a good start for someone wanting to build another wagon or a wheel for any use. They’re too thick to burn all the way through. But how was I to carry all that?”

  “You should suggest going back for them to Trace and his men. Maybe they’d want some of those things enough to fetch them. It’s not that far a distance on a fast horse. Look at the way they sent Adam to a town far away with plans for him to be home soon.”

  With a hard swallow, Deb said, “The money I sent with Adam this morning was the last I had. If there are other things to buy, I’ll have to use the Scotts’ money. I don’t feel right about spending other folks’ coins. I plan to find their families, their heirs, and send that money to them. I have the names of those who died, but I don’t know who to write to. For now, I won’t worry about it, but I do want to hold back the money. I’ll not steal from those who died being robbed just because the robbers weren’t thorough.”

  “I agree completely. But using the Scotts’ money is different. We need to care for the children. And if there is some left, we can send it along with Cameron when he arrives to claim his daughter. I suppose he’ll want Ronnie, too.” Gwen gave the little ones a wistful look. She’d fallen very much in love with them during their journey.

  Ronnie pulled his toes out of his mouth, jumped up, and rushed the fireplace. For no possible reason on the earth, he seemed fascinated by the deadly flames.

  With quick, practiced skill, Gwen intercepted him and picked him up to tickle his tummy. She was very good at diverting the little ones.

  “You watch them while I get on with the meal. The bread first, then the ham. I’ll let you make the piecrust—you do it in half the time I can. You keep Maddie Sue and Ronnie out of trouble. I’ll handle the food.”

  Cooking in Trace’s fireplace was so much like what Deb had been doing for the wagon train that it wasn’t much trouble.

  Gwen helped when she could, but the children kept her running.

  A gust of wind blew through the cracks in the house walls.

  Looking worried, Deb asked, “Does this cabin wobble a bit in the wind or am I imagining it?”

  Looking around her, Gwen said, “I’m not sure, but I hope those men get a cabin built fast, and a second one for themselves.”

  “I certainly hope we’re not too much trouble,” Deb said dryly.

  Gwen snorted. Deb couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Can you imagine three men living in here?” Gwen shook her head. “So small and so cold. I can’t see how they stood it.”

  Deb worked and talked with Gwen and the children. She raked the burning wood forward in the fireplace and carefully nestled two pies into the back corners to bake. The ham was soon boiling in the covered Dutch oven. Deb put biscuits on to bake, along with another pan of water for the potatoes. There wasn’t room in Trace’s small hearth for everything, but soon the biscuits were done and set aside. She prepared a small mountain of potatoes and set them to cooking. They’d be done in time to give her space to make the gravy at the last minute.

  She and Gwen were very busy seeing over the pans to keep everything from burning while keeping the children out of harm’s way.

  “Call them in, Deb.” Back home, Gwen had run the household while Deb ran the newspaper. That arrangement kept Gwen in school, even though Pa thought it was a waste of time to educate girls.

  As Gwen whipped the gravy into perfect smoothness, Deb took her turn corralling the children and knew they both had their hands very full.

  “I’ll take the gravy up in a few minutes. By the time they wash and get in here, dinner will be ready.”

  Deb went to the door, a child in each arm, and did some fumbling to get hold of the knob and swing the door open.

  In her clear, pretty voice, she yelled, “Dinnertime!”

  CHAPTER

  12

  Trace jerked his head up so fast he almost embedded the ax in his foot.

  Utah laughed from where he was digging a trench in which to set the foundation logs. “Reckon I haven’t heard a sound that pretty in many a day, Trace. And two meals in a row cooked by a woman’s hand.”

  “You ate woman-cooked food at the end of the cattle drive.” Trace didn’t know why he was correcting U
tah. He agreed. It was a mighty fine sound.

  They were hustling when they walked into the house and smelled heaven.

  Utah poked Trace in the back so hard he almost stumbled forward. But no words or pokes were needed, at least not between the men.

  But words were definitely needed for the women.

  “You made ham and potatoes.” Trace could barely hold himself back from diving into the food. “This looks delicious. Better than any food that has ever appeared on this ranch.”

  Which wasn’t much of a compliment considering Trace’s cooking skills. He needed a better compliment.

  He washed up, then was afraid his dash toward the food was flat-out embarrassing, but he couldn’t stop himself.

  Gwen set the biscuits on the small table. Everyone would need to take a plate and sit on the beds. Trace figured he’d better give Gwen and Deb and the little ones his bed to sit on. They needed to build furniture. Funny, he’d never had such a thought until now.

  Hoofbeats thundered outside. Adam was back. It’d taken him just over six hours and that was close to a record.

  Trace should have gone out to help, but he had a plateful of food and honestly he just could not make himself put it down. And the flattery from Utah, not to mention from him, almost drowned out the sound of a rider, so he decided to pretend like he hadn’t heard anything.

  He and Utah all sat on the bed farthest from the women. It seemed proper. He really did need more furniture. Of course, the cabin he was building needed walls and a roof even more, so he had to get that finished first.

  Trace saw one plate left, and Gwen was chopping food up on it in such small bites he figured it was for the children. No plate for Adam, then, and none for the women who’d made the feast.

  Eating fast, and he didn’t mind doing that one bit, Trace cleared his plate and went to the sink to wash it up for Adam.

  “I’ll do the dishes.” Deb came and for a second looked to be preparing to wrestle him for the plate. He kinda hoped she would.

  But she saw him smile at her, and he had no idea what was in that smile, but she backed up and crossed her arms, tapping her toe. Then she sniffed at him and turned back to the hearth, dropped to her knees, and started working over the fire.

  Adam swung the door open. Trace saw his horse and the packhorse just outside the door. Both had a full load on their backs. They didn’t need many supplies; they’d just stocked up in Sacramento.

  “Help me unpack the—” He froze like he was underwater in January in Lake Tahoe as Deb rose from the fireplace. “Is . . . is that . . . ? Ma’am . . . Miss Deb, is that . . . pie?”

  Deb turned, pie in hand—absolutely a pie.

  Trace gripped his clean dripping-wet plate, unwilling now to let Adam use it for his meal.

  “I’d say the meal was a success.” Gwen chuckled a bit, then broke out laughing.

  “I’m glad Adam had the sense to mention he bought a few more plates. I thought there might be a fistfight.” Deb looked at Gwen’s pink cheeks and suspected hers were a match. She and Gwen didn’t look much alike, but they both blushed at similar things.

  And this wasn’t even a blush—it was delight. “Feeding those men made me feel better than anything I’ve ever done. Far better than the time I wrote that story about the burned-down general store, and folks came in and there was a building day and money donated to restock their shelves. And that made me feel very good.”

  “And look at the fabric.” Gwen nodded at the stack in all colors and fabrics teetering on one of the beds. “We need to hem some flannel for diapers as soon as we can.”

  Gwen rocked Ronnie by standing up and swaying. There was certainly no such thing as a rocking chair. Deb worked quietly shaping bread loaves so that Gwen could get the boy settled. Maddie Sue had crawled into bed and gone to sleep without a fuss. The children were exhausted after yesterday’s long ride. They’d slept well through the night and looked to be settling in for a good nap.

  Deb finished with the loaves as Gwen lay Ronnie down to sleep in his own bed. The boy tended to kick in his sleep, and both children slept better if they were apart.

  The chopping went on. Gwen went to the door and opened it a few inches. “They’ve started on the walls, Deb. I can see where the cabin will be. I can’t believe they’re building a cabin for us.”

  Deb washed the flour off her hands and took the towel with her to the door to peek out. She enjoyed the sight of hardworking men for a few more minutes. There was a nice stack of logs, but more trees were being felled. Adam was out of sight, his ax ringing out at a steady pace.

  “Let’s get the supplies Adam bought stowed and see about more diapers, then turn our attention to supper.”

  “I’m going to have to make both of us a dress,” Gwen said. “We have to have at least one change of clothes. We honestly need nightgowns, too.”

  “I sent enough money along to pay for this cloth, though I didn’t expect to get quite so much. We can use it for ourselves. I had one extra dress for Maddie Sue and a pair of overalls for Ronnie, but they need more than that.”

  “Where’d you get them?” Gwen asked.

  “I’d stuck them in my satchel earlier when we were walking through those woods. I often keep a change of clothes for them. And they never needed them, and there they still were when I grabbed the satchel to carry along into the tall grass.”

  “Mr. Scott was always reminding us not to go out unprepared. I’d say you learned that lesson.”

  “We’ll have to find time when the children are napping to see about new dresses.” Deb looked down at her faded blue gingham dress. She’d worn it most days, with only one other dress to change into when this one was getting the rare washing.

  “Adam went overboard with the fabric.” Gwen looked at the stack of bolts and giggled.

  “I must have scared him with my talk of diapers.” Deb grinned at her sister. “He certainly didn’t want to be caught short. What are we going to do with all this?”

  “The men left here quickly last night and I’ve looked around. I’ve found a second shirt for each of them, and they are mighty threadbare. We can make shirts for the men, maybe trousers, too. Unless they’re stored somewhere I can’t see, none of them have much to spare.”

  “You’ve had to drag Ronnie out from under every bed. There’s no corner of this cabin you haven’t seen.”

  “Let’s get to work. We need to try and outdo ourselves for supper.”

  Shaking her head, Gwen said, “I’m not sure we do. I get the feeling it will take only very simple good food to keep the men happy. Plenty of it, of course, as hard as they’re working.”

  Midafternoon on the fifth day since the wagon train massacre, Trace came in alone, smiling. “It’s done. There’s finishing work to do, but the roof’s on, the chimney is solid and ready for a fire. Utah built a couple of cots in the bedrooms. So you can sleep in the new cabin tonight. The men are chopping down a few more trees, younger ones so Utah can build a few chairs and make a table tomorrow, and there’s work to do on cupboards and such. He says he can figure out how to make a crib for Ronnie, Maddie Sue too, if you think she needs one.”

  “You’ve worked fast.” Deb was near him, just pulling a cover up over Ronnie. Both children slept soundly at nap time. Deb and Gwen didn’t worry about talking while they slept, and neither child had noticed the door open or the gust of cold wind that came in or Trace talking.

  Going the few steps to Trace, Deb rested a hand on his arm. She was so delighted she had to make sure he knew it. “Thank you for all the hard work. For all you’ve done and keep doing for us, Trace. As for the cribs, we didn’t have any on the wagon train, so we can get by without them.”

  She looked at Gwen, who smiled at Trace from where she kneaded bread at the table. “I don’t think you need to build a crib, either. Maybe instead you should build a couple more cots, if the house is going to be for you and your men once we’re gone.”

  “We aim to put up a bunkhouse
after you get moved in. We’ll live in here until it’s done, then tear down this house,” Trace said. “We’re going to keep chopping down trees as long as the weather holds. If we can’t build now, and I hope we can, we’ll do it in the spring. But we’ll have a jump on it by having the trees ready. Utah’s determined to get on with it.”

  “I’m so impressed with how hard you’re all working. You’re wonderful, decent men.”

  Trace looked down to where her hand rested on his arm. She had since taken a nice firm grip. Deb realized she had a tight hold and let go. She stepped back so fast she almost stumbled.

  Trace opened his mouth, then cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, the house, it’s mighty raw, there’s no floor . . . but then there isn’t one here, either. Utah says that’s a winter job. And we need to seal up some holes, yet it’s a mighty fine house, especially compared to this one.” He gave the sleeping little ones a nervous look. “Can you come out and see it? Will Maddie Sue and Ronnie be all right in here alone for a few minutes? I’d like to show you. I appreciate how you’ve kept to the house. I worried that the children could come to grief with all the axes swinging and such—and there’s gonna be more of it.”

  “Can we wait until they wake up?” Deb asked.

  “No, you go ahead, Deb.” Gwen cut the dough in three pieces. “My hands are already in the dough. I need to shape this into loaves, and I don’t want to leave the children sleeping. They would probably sleep through our absence, but if they did wake up, I’m afraid they might wander too close to the fire.”

  Deb smiled at Trace. “I’d really love to see. Maybe we could go take a look, and then I can get back so Gwen could go?”

  Trace nodded. “Sounds fine to me. Grab your coat.”

  Deb was already shrugging it on.

  She dressed as warmly as possible all the time. The house was chilly. She and Gwen had made heavy shawls and wore them around the house, and they’d used wool Adam had brought to sew stockings for themselves and the children.