Lone Star Romance Collection

by Cathy Marie Hake

  “Wipe that smile off your face, Rob, before I do something rash.”

  Rob sauntered over, picked up a shoe, and pretended to be fascinated by it. “Just when,” he asked slowly, “did you appoint yourself Carmen’s guardian?”

  Chapter 6

  Someone has to look out for her. The woman doesna give a moment’s consideration to her own needs.”

  “Hmm.” Rob set the shoe down with exacting care. “And how is it you’ve paid attention to whether men have called on her?”

  “Her house is directly across the street,” Duncan snapped. “Take a look—her garden and porch are the view from where I work. I’ve not been skulking or spying on her.”

  Rob went over to the window and clasped his hands behind his back. He nodded sagely as he examined the view for himself. “Duncan?”

  “Now what?”

  “I like Carmen.”

  “You’ve an odd way of showing it, putting her in this painful predicament.”

  “Much as I like Carmen, Mercy loves her even more.”

  Duncan let out a low growl of frustration.

  Rob turned around and grinned. “We’ll be happy to have her as our sister-in-law.”

  Duncan gaped at his brother.

  Rob held up a hand to forestall any response. “Dinna deny it. You’ve feelings for the lass. Your reaction tonight shows those feelings run deep.”

  “Friendship doesna mean I’m marching down the aisle.”

  “Good thing, that. We dinna have any more of our plaid. I’m thinkin’ by the time ’tis ordered and arrived, you’ll be wanting a length to drape o’er your bride’s shoulder.”

  The image of Carmen dressed in a bridal gown with the Gregor tartan gathered over her shoulder hit Duncan so hard he dropped down onto his bench.

  Rob grinned like a drunken jester. “You love her.”

  “I’m a rough man. Why would a fine lass like her hae anything to do wi’ me?”

  “Remember that song the sailor was singing when we were waiting for the train?”

  “About America? What does that hae to do with this?”

  “You’re in America now. This is the land of the free and the home of the brave.” Rob snickered. “Only if you’re brave, you’ll no longer be free—you’ll be married to a fiery little woman.”

  Duncan shot his brother a dark look. “You’re far too amused by this.”

  “Aye, that I am. But what you just did is telling.”

  “What did I do?”

  “Actually, it’s more what you didna do.”

  Duncan got up and started pacing. “You’re driving me daft. Will you make up your mind whether it’s something I did or didna do?”

  “What you didna do was deny what I said. You love her. If your heart weren’t involved, you’d have challenged me.”

  Duncan folded his arms across his chest. In that moment, everything fell into place. His brother spoke the truth, and Duncan couldn’t deny it. He didn’t even want to. “I’ve made up my mind. Aye, I have.”

  “About what?”

  “I’m going to court the woman. She’s not had a swain, and I’m going to ease her into this slow and sweet. When we’re old and gray, she’ll look back and feel every last tender hope she e’er held in her heart was fulfilled.”

  “Women are romantics. If you plan to fulfill every last tender hope, you’ll be old and gray and still not be married to her yet.”

  “You’d best watch what you say. I’m still sore at you for sticking that young girl into Carmen’s care.”

  “You ought to be thanking me. Now that Carmen’s not alone, you can go over there without raising any questions of propriety.”

  “The only thing I’ll thank you to do is keep this conversation confidential.” He stared out the window. “There’s every chance Carmen might not love me back.”

  “ ’Tis a bonny day to go fishing,” Duncan announced as he crossed the road with a shovel in his big hands.

  Only a few days had passed since Carmen had blurted out the shameful fact that no man would have her and she had to resort to borrowing children. That alone left her wanting to crawl off somewhere. But Duncan had listened to that appallingly personal confession and rumbled “pobrecita” at her as if she needed his pity. Carmen decided she didn’t want to crawl off somewhere after all; she’d rather bake a special batch of empanadas for him and dust them with cayenne and chili instead of cinnamon. She wouldn’t, but just the thought brought a tiny measure of glee.

  “Aye, I’m going fishing.”

  She pretended not to hear him and stooped down to pick a weed.

  The hulking Scotsman kept coming.

  Carmen fought the urge to tell him to stop wasting time and go fishing. This is all his fault. I don’t have a hard time minding my manners with anyone else. Duncan—he’s polite and kind to everyone else. Why can’t he just leave me alone and keep his opinions to himself? The man’s an insensitive brute and needs to mind his own business instead of prying into mine. If he says anything—

  Boots stopped half a yard from her. Ordinary brown boots. Carmen hadn’t figured out yet why Duncan’s boots were so basic and plain. A cobbler could wear the finest and fanciest, yet he didn’t. She looked up to tell him so.

  “I’m going fishing,” he said again as he reached down to assist her up.

  Carmen accepted his help, then snatched her hand back and wondered why she’d let him assist her. Scrambling to find something to say, she blurted out, “Most men take a pole fishing, not a spade.”

  He chortled softly, and the fine lines crinkling from the corners of his eyes reminded her that he laughed often. “ ’Tis the truth. I’ve some method to my madness, though. This time last year, you were planting flowers. Why dinna I turn the soil for you and swipe a few worms whilst I’m at it?”

  Astonishment and relief flooded her. He was acting as if they’d never had that horribly awkward and embarrassing exchange. “That would be nice. Thank you.” And I’m going to bake you some empanadas with cinnamon, not cayenne and chili. “Duncan, I have a friend staying with me for a while.”

  “Rob told me.” His voice took on an undertone that she couldn’t interpret.

  Carmen called, “Jenny?”

  Jenny stepped out of the house. “Ja?”

  “Come meet our neighbor.” She waited until Jenny reached her side. “Jenny Sigrids, may I present you to Duncan Gregor. Duncan, my friend, Jenny.”

  “ ’Tis a pleasure to meet any friend of Carmen’s. Nice to meet you, Mi—”

  Realizing the fact that Jenny was unwed would cause for awkward moments, Carmen interrupted. “Oh dear, I should have mentioned that with three Gregor men across the street, it makes for a lot of confusion if we use formal address. Duncan, I hope you don’t mind if Jenny follows my example and calls you by your Christian name.”

  “Not a-tall.”

  “And, Jenny, it’s only fair that you reciprocate. There.” Carmen smiled broadly. “Duncan, since you’re turning the soil, maybe Jenny and I can go to the mercantile and choose flower seeds today.”

  “You already have a beautiful garden,” Jenny said.

  “Actually, it’s a pitiful mess right now. Isn’t it, Duncan?”

  “Shameful as ’tis to confess, I did tell you that just a few days back. Last year, the blossoms in your yard rivaled all of God’s flower-strewn fields about us.”

  “Oh my.” Jenny sighed. “I never had a garden. It will be so fun to grow something.”

  “You know,” Duncan said, stretching, “if you’d like, we could go on a walk. I’ll take a wheelbarrow, and we could transplant some of the wildflowers so you can enjoy them until your seeds sprout and blossom.”

  “What about the worms?” Jenny asked.

  “I’m sure we’ll happen across a few.” Duncan’s glance skimmed down their gowns. “You’re both wearin’ lovely frocks. Best you go change into ones that willna be spoiled by layers of dust.”

  “Though it sounds like a d
elightful notion, I’m afraid Jenny and I need to do something else today.”

  “Perhaps later in the week.” Duncan didn’t ask—he told. When had he become so bossy?

  “Oh, that would be so much fun,” Jenny said.

  Carmen couldn’t dash Jenny’s enthusiasm. Though Jenny was tall and large-boned, she still seemed startlingly childlike in some circumstances. So far, she and Jenny had politely limited their conversations to impersonal things. Carmen wasn’t sure how old her guest was. For now, she would indulge the girl. “We’ll be able to go in a few days. The timing would be better. By buying seeds first, we can transplant the wildflowers to places in the garden where they’ll have the best effect.”

  “Best effect?” Jenny wrinkled her nose. “I thought they were just supposed to look pretty.”

  “Me, too.” Duncan grinned at Jenny.

  He’s impossibly handsome. He’s charming her, just as he charms everyone else. He turned his steady blue gaze back onto Carmen. “Why dinna ye tell us just what kind of effect you are talkin’ about?”

  “What I meant was, we don’t want to plant whistly blue behind paintbrush or bluebonnets. They’re tall and would block out the flowers that are low to the ground.”

  He nodded. “That makes sense. Good thinking. Back home, Rob always kept an herbal garden so he’d have medicinals on hand. Each plant belonged in a specific location, but I dinna ken whether ’twas so he could tell them apart or because one might taint another if they grew too close.”

  “He didn’t put in an herb garden here.” Carmen frowned. “Why not?”

  Duncan compressed his lips for a moment and then grimaced. “Chris dug straight through it when he put in the basement. He thought the herbs were weeds. Best you not mention it to either of them unless you’re set to witness a shouting match.”

  “You Gregors don’t fight,” Carmen said.

  “They don’t?” Jenny sounded completely flummoxed. “Men always fight.”

  “Now I suppose that depends on the men.” Duncan shrugged. “I’ve known many a man to lose his temper, but of all the men I’ve known, I admired my da the most. I canna recall a single time when he lost his self-control.”

  “He must have been quite a man,” Jenny said softly.

  “Humility, meekness, self-control—those are all traits a man of God strives for.” Carmen looked at Duncan. “Your father must have been a godly man.”

  “The finest, and I thank you for sayin’ so.”

  “Jenny, why don’t we wash up and go to the mercantile?”

  “All right.” Jenny shoved her hands into the pocket of her apron. “I hope the fish are biting once you go fishing, Duncan.”

  “Now there’s a grand thought.”

  Carmen didn’t mention how she’d noticed Jenny’s hands remained fisted deep in the apron pockets. Was she truly excited to go on the walk, or was she just afraid to have to be out and meet people here in town?

  They went inside, and Carmen went to the washstand. “It never fails to amaze me how filthy my hands become after just a few minutes in the garden.”

  Jenny didn’t respond.

  As she dried her hands on a scarlet towel embroidered with big, sunny yellow flowers, Carmen turned to her. “I like to sew. Do you?”

  “For my grandmother, I used to sew all of the time. She was a dressmaker.”

  Carmen smiled. “Wonderful. My friend Mercy—she’s the doctor’s wife—she recently had a baby. I remember her making special dresses during the time she was—“ Carmen caught herself just before she said, “in the family way.” Jenny wasn’t going to keep the baby, so mentioning family would be cruel. Instead, Carmen simply said, “—increasing. I’m sure you’re going to need some roomier clothes, too. Maybe we could drop in on Mercy and ask her for advice before we buy fabric.”

  “My other dress is bigger.” Jenny paused a second then blurted out, “I don’t have much money. I had to run away from the saloon. Bart thought I was going to the doctor to get rid of the baby, so all I have is what he gave me to pay the doctor.”

  “Jenny!”

  Jenny hung her head. “I’m sorry. A nice lady like you shouldn’t rub elbows with—”

  Carmen stopped her by wrapping Jenny in her arms. “I’m so proud of you. You’re a brave girl. You did the right thing.”

  Jenny drew away and looked nonplussed.

  “It must have been hard for you to get help and keep everything a secret.”

  Jenny bit her lip and nodded.

  “But here you are. And we have those three big, strong Gregor men across the street to protect you if that awful Bart finds out where you are.”

  “Why would they want to protect me?” Just as quickly as she asked it, Jenny answered the question. “Because of the baby.”

  “No. If you’d run away from a bad situation and weren’t with child, they’d still defend you. They’re noble men.” Carmen squeezed Jenny’s hand. “Mercy and I both enjoy sewing and doing embroidery. Won’t it be pleasant to sit together in a shady spot and stitch together?”

  A stiff shrug tattled on Jenny’s reservations.

  “Tacky as it might be for me to discuss money, you ought to know that on occasion someone chooses to be a secret benefactor to a woman in your situation. I know that’s true in your case. You’ll have an account at the mercantile, so it shouldn’t be a problem for you to purchase fabric and other necessities.”

  “Someone would do that for me? A stranger? They didn’t know what kind of woman I am.”

  “What that person knows is that you are a woman who is willing to give her child the wonderful gift of a family who will cherish him or her in ways you know you cannot.”

  “Don’t you think whoever that is would want me to spend the money to make blankets and clothes and diapers for the baby?”

  “Absolutely not!” Carmen released Jenny’s hand. “The couple who receives the baby will take care of those details. Why don’t you freshen up while I jot down a few things?”

  While Jenny took a turn at the washstand, Carmen sat at the ornately carved oak secretary her mother once treasured. She didn’t have much time, so she dipped the pen in the inkwell and quickly wrote:

  CONFIDENTIAL.

  Dear Leonard,

  Set up an account for Jenny. Twenty-five dollars. No one—especially Jenny—is to know I’m funding this. Thank you.

  She hastily signed only her initials and glanced over at Jenny.

  “I’m in no hurry. If you’d like to tame your hair, feel free.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  Carmen took another sheet of paper and hastily started writing down anything she might vaguely need from the mercantile.

  “That list must be getting long,” Jenny said as she patted one last strand of hair into place.

  “I’ve been doing a lot of baking. One peek into my pantry and you’ll think we’re in danger of starving.” Carmen blotted the list and folded it to hide the note.

  Chapter 7

  Duncan yawned and stretched. He’d gone to bed late and gotten up early so he’d have today’s work done by breakfast. That freed him to take Carmen for a nice stroll. Women liked to walk and have a man pick flowers for them. Surely this would be a time she’d remember fondly. It would be a fine start of their courtship.

  The thought of taking a picnic lunch along crossed his mind, but Duncan decided he’d use that as another outing. Aye, he’d plan a string of pleasant activities and idyllic afternoons, and he’d make a point to go over to her house more often to handle some minor repairs and do general upkeep.

  Small gardening hand tools jostled merrily in the wheelbarrow as he wheeled it across the street. Duncan mentally traced the route they’d take again. He’d wandered the nearby fields to plot out a leisurely walk that wouldn’t tax Carmen. Though she didn’t complain, he knew her leg pained her—and she loathed having anyone notice that ridiculously paltry limp of hers. But because she’d be mortified to be unable to exert herself, Duncan circu
mvented the difficulty by planning everything in advance.

  “Good morning!” Carmen stepped from her house. The morning sun glossed her raven-black hair and made Duncan wish he could yank out the pins and run his hands through her tresses to see how long they were.

  “Yeah. Good morning.” Jenny stepped out of the house, too.

  “Aye, ’tis. And it just got better, what with a pair of pretty ladies to go on a walk wi’ me.”

  They sauntered down the street. Pride squared Duncan’s shoulders. With Carmen by his side, he felt ten feet tall. The moment they reached a fork in the road, he started to veer south.

  “Have you ever seen such a sight?” Jenny stared in rapture at the field that went north.

  “I don’t know what it is about flowers.” Carmen smiled. “I always think the one I’m looking at is the most beautiful ever.”

  Jenny shaded her eyes with one hand and pointed into the distance. “Could we get some of those little blue ones?”

  “What a wonderful idea. I’m always charmed by wind-blown.”

  Duncan tilted his head to the side. “Aren’t all wildflowers windblown?”

  “Most are,” Carmen allowed. “But that particular flower’s name is wind-blown. Jenny, I’ll show you more of them. It’s amazing, but wind-blown comes in a huge array of colors. If you keep watch, you soon see them in everything from a pale blue to a bright pink.”

  To Duncan’s consternation, the women headed north toward the wind-blown. He wanted to snatch Carmen back to his side. He told himself it was simply because he wanted her to take the easier route he’d planned. He promptly called himself a liar. He didn’t want her away from his side—and that was the truth of the matter.

  “You mentioned whistly blue the other day,” he said to Carmen. “I’ve found several stretches of it, but I’d rather hae them be among the beauty we gather after we gain a collection of taller varieties.”

  Carmen smiled. “That’s good planning.”

  “I was wondering”—Jenny scanned the field—“can we fill the wheelbarrow today and put the flowers in the garden tomorrow?”