But For Grace (HEARTSONG PRESENTS - HISTORICAL)

by Tracey V. Bateman

Star’s stomach turned over, and she thought she might fall off the chair. How could she ever bring herself to tell Michael she didn’t know how to sew?

  She glanced at Miss Hannah. The older woman gave her an encouraging smile. “It’s all right. Michael wouldn’t have bought the things if he didn’t think you needed them.”

  Wishing the woman had read her mind, Star felt her heart sink. She was just going to have to find a way to explain that she couldn’t make the dresses. Sarah’s gowns would have to do for her.

  “I don’t see anything wrong with what she’s wearing now.” Andy gave her a once-over and winked.

  Feeling her face grow hot under his appreciative gaze, Star looked away uncomfortably. She’d seen that look before on the faces of dozens of other men, and she’d just as soon never see it again.

  Miss Hannah stood. “You’ll be wanting to take these things to your room so you can rummage through them. Let me help you in there.”

  “Want me to carry her, Ma?”

  “No!” Star said, a little too sharply.

  His brow lifted. “Just trying to be helpful,” he said with a smirk.

  “Thank you, but I–I can make it. Really. It’s not hurting nearly as bad as it was before.”

  Miss Hannah slid an arm around Star’s shoulders. “Lean on me, Honey. Aimee, carry Miss Star’s new things into our room, will you?”

  Star drew in a sharp breath as she tried to step down on her swollen ankle.

  Andy stepped forward. “Sure you don’t want me to—”

  “No!” Star and Miss Hannah said in unison.

  He held his palms up in surrender. “Okay, okay, just trying to be a gentleman.”

  Throwing him a reproving look, Miss Hannah gave a disgruntled sniff. “Behave yourself, young man, before I turn you over my knee and whip the daylights out of you.”

  Andy chortled. “Aw, Ma.”

  “Don’t ‘Aw, Ma’ me,” she shot back, but her voice had softened considerably. “You just stay put until I get back. No telling how long ’til you up and take off again, and I haven’t got my fill of you yet.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he replied, that big grin plastered on his rugged face.

  Star was glad when they reached the safety of her bedroom. That man made her uncomfortable.

  As if reading her thoughts, Miss Hannah gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Don’t worry about Andy, Honey. He’s just a big young-un at heart. He don’t mean anything he says.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” But Star couldn’t shed the uneasiness filling her. She’d seen enough big, good-looking men with funny ways sweep the girls right off their feet, only to leave the next morning, never to be heard from again. She didn’t care for his kind, and she didn’t like the way he looked at her—as though he had a right. Michael never made her feel uncomfortable or undressed in the way his eyes held their own appreciation for her looks.

  Aimee dumped the first bundle on the bed. “I’ll get the other one,” she hollered and ran out the door.

  “Well, you going to open these packages and see what my son brought you?” Miss Hannah eyed her.

  Star couldn’t help but feel the excitement of getting the new things, although they would do her no good unless no one minded if she wrapped the material around her like a shawl. She smiled at the thought of Michael’s face, should she do just that.

  “You’re a lovely girl, Star. Especially when you smile.”

  Surprised at the sudden compliment, she didn’t know what to say as she glanced up to meet the older woman’s gaze.

  Cupping Star’s cheeks in her work-roughened hands, Miss Hannah seemed to see straight through to her very soul. “You’re a good girl, Honey. I don’t know what trouble brought you to us, but I’m mighty thankful the Lord saw fit to bring Michael across your path.”

  Removing her hands, she let out a sigh and dropped to the bed beside Star. “We all have our share of troubles to muddle through. Sometimes we need to work things out for ourselves; but if the time comes when you feel the need to unburden yourself, you can come to me.”

  Again, Star was left speechless. Her throat tightened and her eyes stung. She kept her gaze directed to the packages spread out over the bed.

  “Well, I’ll leave you to open these by yourself,” Miss Hannah said. She placed her hands on her thighs to brace herself and stood. “You feel free to use my sewing kit to fix yourself those dresses. Won’t be able to do much else for the next week or so, with that ankle looking big enough to choke a horse.”

  Star lifted her hands in despair. Gathering her courage, she faced the woman. “Miss Hannah. . .I can’t. I mean, I don’t know how to. . .”

  A puzzled frown furrowed the woman’s brow, then changed to an understanding smile. “Why, you can’t sew a stitch, can you?”

  Dropping her gaze, Star shook her head.

  “Well, there’s nothing to it. Trust me, we’ll whip them up in no time. By the time that ankle allows you to go to church, you’ll be lovely as a picture in one of those pretty colors.”

  Church. Star’s stomach nearly leapt with the joyous thought. She willed her ankle to hurry up and heal.

  Six

  Three weeks later, Star swirled around the main room of the homestead while Miss Hannah and Aimee watched with delight. The wide skirt of her newly made green muslin dress brushed against Aimee, nearly knocking her off her feet.

  Laughing aloud, Star snatched up the little girl and danced her around the room. “Oh! Have you ever seen anything so pretty in your life?”

  A giggling Aimee shook her head.

  “Your grammy’s a sewing genius!”

  Breathless, Star plopped down in the wooden rocker near the fireplace. Unable to contain the emotions welling up inside, she hugged Aimee tightly until the little girl began to squirm.

  Miss Hannah beamed under the praise. “Oh, now. You’ll be sewing your own dresses in no time.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Why, sure. Nothin’ to it. Right after dinner, we’ll start cuttin’ out the gray material.”

  Aimee turned her pixie face to Star and wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like the gray. Do you?”

  Star pressed her lips together. She couldn’t very well admit to thinking that material was about as ugly as the brown dress Miss Hannah had already made.

  “Can’t Miss Star make the blue dress first? Then she could wear it to church on Sunday.”

  Star glanced hopefully at Miss Hannah.

  The older woman shook her head. “I think it best we let Miss Star learn on the gray material. What do you think, Star?”

  Swallowing her disappointment, she nodded. She detested the gray, but Miss Hannah was right. No sense making a mess out of the pretty material.

  Besides, now that her ankle was healed, she would begin all the outside chores in the morning. It had just about healed, and she’d tried to be too independent. As a result, she set back her healing and earned a thorough scolding from Michael. She already had the ugly brown muslin, but since there were more “every” days than special days, it was only practical to have two dresses to wear around the house.

  A low whistle brought Star back to the present.

  “You look as fresh and pretty as a summer forest.” Andy’s large buckskin-clad frame filled the door. His gaze raked over Star, making her feel undressed.

  “Thank you,” she mumbled, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for one chance to put that scoundrel in his place. But her mind went blank, and her hands started shaking every time he made an ungentlemanly or improper remark. The words she would like to say fled her mind, only to resurface at some later moment when she was alone with her thoughts. That did her no good at times like this.

  “The dress is lovely, Star. You look very nice.”

  At the sound of Michael’s voice, Star glanced up and smiled. “Thank you.” The look of appreciation in his eyes thrilled her, reducing Andy’s unwanted attention to a mere annoyance rather than a cause
for concern.

  “Is it already dinnertime?” Miss Hannah pushed herself up from her chair. “You boys sit yourselves down. I’ll have your meal on the table in no time.”

  “I’ll help.” Star followed Miss Hannah to the stove, wishing she didn’t have to walk past Andy to get there. She recoiled as he leaned in close enough to brush against her.

  “Mmm, smell good too.”

  Star sent him her best look of disdain. She was getting pretty tired of his comments. Over the past three weeks, he seemed to have gotten steadily worse—finding opportunities to brush against her, making comments that weren’t at all fitting or proper. To Star, it was as though she were back at Luke’s and putting up with leers and suggestions from the drunken patrons. She avoided contact with him as best she could and prayed he’d feel the call of the wild and be on his way soon.

  “Leave her alone, Andy,” she heard Michael growl.

  “Jealous?” Andy’s mocking voice shot back.

  Holding her breath, Star waited for the answer.

  “Of course I’m not jealous. But common sense can tell you she doesn’t appreciate your so-called admiration, so why keep baiting her like that?”

  Andy gave an unpleasant chuckle. “I think she does appreciate the attention.”

  “Andy. . . ,” Michael growled.

  “Now, come on. What do you really know about this girl? You picked her up off the street without even asking around about her. No telling where she came from.” He gave a short laugh. “And unless I miss my guess, she’s closer to my kind of woman than yours.”

  Star felt the heat rise to her cheeks and tears burned her throat. Was it that obvious where she had come from? A sense of helpless fury invaded her. How would she ever gain respect if one look at her convinced people she was no good? She would just have to do something about her looks—that was all.

  Michael’s sharp response drew her from her thoughts of a pinched hairdo and drab gowns.

  “If you don’t shut your mouth, I’m going to shut it for you.”

  A gasp escaped Star’s lips. “Oh, no! They can’t fight. Miss Hannah, do something.”

  “I’m putting a stop to this nonsense.” Miss Hannah scowled and grabbed the broom from the corner as Andy and Michael slammed to the floor, a tangle of long arms and legs. “You boys stop it this instant,” Miss Hannah bellowed, raising the broom up high and bringing it down hard on Andy’s leg.

  “Ow, Ma! Will you move away before you get hurt?”

  “I will not. You two don’t have any sense at all,” she huffed. “You’re acting like a couple of young’uns.”

  From the corner, a meek voice piped up. “I don’t hit people, Grammy. And I’m a young’un.”

  Star’s gaze flew to Aimee’s wide-eyed stare and trembling lips. The sheltered child looked as though she would dissolve into tears any second. The weight of responsibility for being the cause of Aimee’s pain pressed into Star’s chest. She gathered a deep, unsteady breath.

  “Michael,” she pleaded. “Please don’t fight to defend me. I’m not worth it.”

  The two men stopped midstruggle, and all eyes turned to Star. She swallowed hard, trying to choke back the tears. “Please. . .just stop.”

  Miss Hannah’s heavy arm pulled Star close. “You’re worth every punch, darling Star. But these boys know fightin’ don’t solve a thing.” She glared at Michael and Andy. “Now, get up off that floor, both of you. You two weren’t raised to settle your differences with your fists. Andy, keep your mouth shut about Star from now on. She’s a decent, God-fearing child, and I will not stand for any more of your disrespect.”

  Andy rose to his feet and offered his hand to Michael. Star held her breath as he pulled Michael to his feet.

  Bending down, Michael pressed a kiss to Miss Hannah’s anger-flushed cheek. “I’m sorry, Ma. No more fighting.”

  “Glad to hear it, Son. Now what about you?” She pointed the question to Andy.

  Following Michael’s example, he kissed his mother. “I reckon it’s time for me to be pushin’ on, anyway.”

  “Oh, Andy,” Miss Hannah moaned. “Ya don’t have to leave. I just want you to behave yourself like a gentleman.”

  “Now, Ma, it’s not just because of this scuffle. You know I can’t stay put for long. To tell you the truth, I’m headed East to scout for a wagon train, come spring.”

  “Andy, please,” Star heard herself say, “I should be the one to leave. It will break your ma’s heart if you go.”

  Giving her a lopsided grin, Andy bent at the waist in an exaggerated bow. “That’s generous of you, Miss Star, but it’s time for me to go. Although, I’ll sure miss the sight of your pretty face.”

  “Listen, Andy,” Michael said, his voice conciliatory, “I’d like you to stay. I could use your help with the harvest and, as Star said, Ma’s going to miss you something awful if you leave again.”

  Andy hesitated, then shook his head. “I’m not much good in the fields.”

  “Pa?” Aimee’s uncharacteristically meek voice captured their attention. “Is everything okay now?”

  Michael lifted her from the floor and held her close. “Pa’s sorry for scaring you, Angel. Everything’s fine and dandy.”

  “No more fighting?”

  “Nope,” Andy cut in. “Your pa and I made up like a couple of lovebirds. And your uncle Andy is ashamed as all get out to scare you like that. Forgive me?”

  A grin split Aimee’s precious face as she bobbed her head, allowing her golden curls to bounce on her shoulders. “They got any Indian squaws where you’re goin’?”

  “Probably.” Andy chuckled and sent her a wink. “Got any particular reason for asking, or were you just wondering?”

  “You think you could bring me another Indian dolly?”

  “Aimee!” Miss Hannah scolded.

  Michael scowled at his daughter.

  Throwing back his head, Andy, emitting a belly laugh, grabbed the little girl from Michael’s arms and lifted her high into the air. “You bet I will. You just wait. I’ll find the prettiest Indian doll I can find and bring it all the way back here just for you.”

  Miss Hannah gathered a deep, unsteady breath. “Well, no need to leave on an empty stomach. You sit yourself down, and I’ll bring your dinner in a jiffy.”

  Star’s heart clenched as she watched the older woman lift her apron and swipe at her eyes. She would have appealed to Andy once more, but as she turned to face him, she found his steely gaze boring into her, all but daring her to speak.

  Fear shot through her, and her knees threatened to give way. Eager to escape, she followed Miss Hannah to the kitchen area.

  ❧

  Michael stood in the predawn darkness and watched as Andy mounted his black mare.

  “I sure wish you’d reconsider leaving, Andy,” he said, surprised to find he really meant the words. After a lot of prayer and soul searching, he’d repented of his attitude toward his brother and for the brawl.

  “Thanks anyway, little brother,” Andy said with an easy grin. “But I think we both know this is for the best. But you be careful with that girl. Something don’t quite add up about her, and I have a feeling you might know what it is. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “I do,” Michael replied tersely.

  “Maybe you do, and maybe you don’t.” Andy’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Anyway, it’s none of my business. I’ll be seeing you when the wagon train makes it back to Oregon next year. I hope that woman doesn’t do the same number on you Sarah did.”

  “Let me worry about that.” Michael lifted a hand in farewell. Irritation threatened to rise again as he watched his brother ride away.

  Maybe he was a little jealous of Andy’s easy way with women, of the way he seemed to understand certain types. Andy had been right about Star. She was a questionable woman, though he’d never admit it to his brother in a million years. The girl was trying, after all, and she deserved to be given a chance. It had been a coupl
e of weeks since he’d heard one undesirable word leave her lips, and each night he’d seen the glow of her candle at the table as she read her Bible. Each morning when he asked her about the previous night’s text, her face lit like the midday sun, and she enthusiastically recounted what she’d read. Yes, Star was trying. He had to give her credit for that. She had proven herself beyond his expectations. Her growth spiritually was nothing short of miraculous. Even Ma had commented on that fact.

  And now that Star’s ankle was completely healed, he greatly anticipated escorting her to church in the morning.

  Seven

  Star felt the warmth of contentment envelop her, despite the chill in the Sunday morning air. Seated in the back of the wagon with Aimee, she was hard-pressed to contain her excitement at the thought of her first church meeting ever.

  The little girl’s lively descriptions of the people and town had her giggling like a child.

  Apparently, Mrs. Merlin knew everything about everybody and used her mercantile as a lively gossip shop, so Star should be careful what she said when that woman was anywhere close by. Least that’s what Grammy said—more than once, according to Aimee.

  Old Mr. Cooper never made it past the singing before he nodded off. Uncle Hank had too many manners to holler at him and wake him up, though Grammy thought it would teach the old man a fine lesson if Uncle Hank did. The snoring was downright distracting, and someone should really do something about it.

  Star sat mesmerized as Aimee’s descriptions of the townsfolk painted vivid pictures in her mind. The beautiful new seamstress had only been in town for a few months, it seemed. Everyone thought she must be hiding a “teeerrrible” secret for a woman that pretty to be living alone and running her own business. According to Mrs. Merlin, the woman was making herself mannish and needed to find a good husband to take care of her. But Grammy said Miss Rosemary was a smart young woman, looking after her own interests.

  “Honestly, Aimee,” Miss Hannah huffed from the wagon seat. “Talk about something else.”

  Aimee gave Star a bewildered look, then shrugged. “I’ll tell you all about the Simpson twins later,” she whispered. “Mrs. Merlin says they need to find husbands too, but they’re getting a little long in the tooth so the pickin’s are getting mighty slim.”