Jim and Luke’s response to her coffee cake provided the perfect opening for her to mention her thoughts. “I can’t remember the last time I had a treat like this for breakfast,” Jim pronounced, stabbing his third piece from the platter.
Luke snorted. “Perhaps the cinnamon rolls from two days ago? As I recall, you ate four for breakfast, two at coffee time, and stole the last one at lunch. Marriage is making your memory go.”
Corrie loved to watch the men banter. They looked much alike, with their hazel eyes, broad shoulders, and tall frames. Yet, while Jim tended to be gruff, Luke had a gentle way about him. Solid affection lay beneath their frequently barbed comments to one another.
“And who was it that grabbed the last biscuit off my fork just last night?” Jim inquired. “I can’t believe my younger brother would steal food from my very mouth.”
“Sometimes it’s the only way to get my fair share,” Luke retorted.
As the laughter around the table faded, Corrie voiced her thoughts. “I had an idea while I was making the coffee cake this morning. I’m thinking I might turn the baking into a business, if you men don’t object.” She gave Luke and Jim each a glance but knew it was Matty she’d have to convince. “I could sell bread and cookies to the neighbors who come calling. Once I have a bit of profit, I’d pay you back for the supplies I’ve used.”
Jim nodded. “Not a bad idea, Corrie. Might as well get some use out of these louts who seem to have nothing better to do than gawk at pretty women.”
Bess also wore an encouraging expression. “That is a good idea. You have a real touch with baked goods. I’m sure the men hereabouts would pay well for whatever you could make. Just be sure you charge a fair price for what you do. You do tend to undervalue yourself.”
Corrie warmed from the unexpected support, particularly in light of the matching expressions on the faces of Luke and Matty. She couldn’t address Luke directly, so she made her appeal to Matty. “You know I love to bake, Matty. It wouldn’t be hard. I’d feel good to be doing something practical. I’m going to need to be able to support the babe and myself eventually anyway.”
The sound that came from Luke’s throat sounded like a cross between a growl and the beginning of speech. But Matty beat him to it. “There’s plenty of time to worry about supporting yourself after we get that little one safely here. In the meantime, you mustn’t overdo. There’s nothing more important than keeping yourself and that baby well.”
“But I do feel well,” Corrie protested. “I’d feel even better if I could do this. You have the cow and the chickens to look after. Bess has the garden.”
She saw the softening in Luke’s eyes before Matty’s, but slowly Matty relented as well. “If Jim and Luke don’t mind you using the supplies, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. But you have to promise me you’ll spend at least an hour per day resting.”
At that moment, Corrie would have promised anything. For the first time since Brian’s death, she felt as if she were no longer just drifting on a tumultuous ocean of circumstances. Might the day come when she’d actually have dreams again?
Chapter 2
The first day of her venture, Corrie made four loaves of bread. She knew her plan would succeed only if she could show Matty it wouldn’t require too much work. The next day, she found some dried apples in the pantry and, after cooking them, turned them into cookies, which filled the house with their spicy scent. She made sure a full dozen were available for Jim and Luke’s afternoon coffee time, and both pronounced them better than the coffee cake.
Just as she expected, Clyde Kincaid, Josiah Temple, and Amos Freeling showed up in the late afternoon. None of them seemed to want to visit with any sister in particular, much to her relief, but all were willing to consume more than their fair share of the cookies. Rather than hide in her room as she often did during these visits, she forced herself to stay and make her business pitch. She waited for yet one more fulsome compliment on the goodies then took a deep breath. “As a matter of fact, Mr. Temple, if you’d like to take some home with you, I’m selling them for ten cents a dozen. I also have bread for sale if you like.”
Clyde Kincaid let out a particularly nasty-sounding guffaw. “Now if that don’t beat all. Not only is she purty, but she’s got a business head about her. I’ll take two dozen cookies and two loaves of bread, Miz Taylor. Looks like I’m gonna have to marry you after all, so I can get all these goodies for free.”
Corrie didn’t know how to respond. She wanted to flee, but she knew she had to learn how to handle situations like this on her own. But before she could think of a reply, a gruff comment from the back door surprised her. “Glad you appreciate our hospitality, Kincaid, but Miz Taylor doesn’t have stock for more than one dozen cookies and one loaf of bread per customer. We’ll try to have more for you next week at this time.” With that, Luke scooped a loaf of bread and a handful of cookies into a square of muslin Corrie had set out on the counter. He wrapped the bundle then held out his hand. “I’ll take your money, and you can take your goods and be on your way.”
Clyde dug a grimy hand into his pocket and produced coins, which he dropped into Luke’s palm. “I’ll tell you, it’s a good thing your mama ain’t here to see how you boys have become downright inhospitable. She’d give you both a whuppin’, I’m sure.” He released that annoying hee-haw laugh of his that showed more gaps than teeth. “No need to rush me; I’m on my way.” He tucked the cloth-wrapped parcel under his arm and tromped through the door, which Luke held ajar for him.
The two men remaining eyed the baked goods still on the counter. Mr. Temple stood and rummaged in his pocket, which looked a good deal cleaner than Kincaid’s had. He looked from Luke to Corrie and back again, as though not sure whom he should address. “I’ll take one of those loaves, if you don’t mind, Collingswood, and here’s an extra penny for the lady’s trouble.”
Amos Freeling also bought a loaf, as well as some of the cookies; and he, too, added a penny to the purchase price. With goods in hand, the two left together, as if the purpose of their visit had been business only.
Luke handed the money over to Corrie then left the house without comment. She couldn’t decide whether she resented his actions or appreciated his intervention.
Word of Corrie’s venture spread quickly. Two days later, four neighboring ranchers showed up to buy fresh bread. “It’s been months since we’ve had anything this tasty, ma’am,” one of them informed her as he cradled the muslin-wrapped loaf as gently as he might a sickly calf.
Corrie felt delight push her lips into a smile. “Thank you for the compliment. I’ll have more for you next week.”
He tipped his hat to her and rode back the way he’d come.
Corrie cradled the coins in her palm. Her venture was working! It wouldn’t be easy to keep up with demand right after the baby came, but she’d find a way. She had to. No matter what the men around here thought, she wouldn’t marry again. She’d have to work hard to provide for herself and her child, but any amount of hard work was preferable to marriage.
That thought kept Corrie going over the next days. It motivated her out of bed in the mornings and gave her energy for kneading batch after batch of bread. She made sure she always had plenty on hand for Jim and Luke so they’d never have cause to complain about her fledgling business. By working steadily, she found herself able to make up to eight loaves of bread every other day, with cookies and muffins on the alternating days. Some mysterious signal seemed to let her rough-edged customers know when new baked goods were available. A steady stream of buyers carried her products away almost as quickly as she made them. An equally steady stream of coins trickled into the old sock she used to store her earnings. Before long, she’d have to ask Jim or Luke to bring home more sugar and flour, and she’d be able to pay for them herself.
The other advantage of her work came each evening at bedtime. It took only moments after falling into bed before sleep claimed her. Most nights, she slept soundly until dawn. If she
woke feeling less rested than she would have liked, no one else noticed.
As autumn progressed, the pace of life on the ranch increased. Bess and Bertie spent most of each day outside, gathering vegetables from the garden and preparing them for storage in the root cellar. They foraged for berries, which Corrie happily incorporated into her baked goods and Matty turned into jam. Corrie even found time to put together a gooseberry pie for the family’s dinner. Not so much as a trickle of berry juice was left by the time Matty started clearing the table.
“That was a fine supper, ladies,” Jim commented as he stood. Though his words addressed them all, his eyes remained fixed on Matty, whose cheeks blushed prettily.
In typical fashion, she turned the attention away from herself. “Corrie always has had the touch for baking,” she said, laying a gentle hand on her twin’s shoulder. “Our mama was that way, too.”
“We’re most grateful.” Luke’s gaze sought Corrie’s across the table. “You’re not working yourself too hard, are you? No dessert is worth making yourself sick over.”
His concern warmed her through, and she smiled reassuringly, glad he couldn’t feel the deep ache in her lower back from standing all day. “It feels good to be useful. Besides, Matty makes me take a rest every afternoon. I can’t so much as sneeze without her fretting.”
He didn’t look convinced but said nothing more. As if his concern had infected the entire room, her sisters wouldn’t let her help with the dishes. When she refused to retire to her room like an invalid, Bess waved her toward the parlor. “Then just sit with your feet up,” she ordered, affectionate concern underlying her tone. “You have the baby to think of, remember?”
As if Corrie could forget. The little one seemed to move continuously. Most of the time, she relished the sense of companionship. But at times like this, when her entire body ached from weariness, the movements within increased her tiredness. She lowered herself onto the settee in the parlor then propped her feet on a nearby footstool. It felt good to get her legs up. She leaned her head against the back of the settee and let relaxation ooze through her. The chatter of her sisters in the kitchen and the rumble of the men’s voices as they thumped around on the back porch provided soothing background noise. For the first time since Brian’s death, she felt at home. She belonged here, on this ranch, with these people.
She awoke from a dreamless sleep to feel Matty tucking a quilt around her. Matty stroked her cheek with a gentle, though rough-skinned, hand. “You looked so peaceful here. I was hoping I wouldn’t wake you.”
“I don’t mind, although if I’m going to sleep, I probably should go upstairs. I’d hate for the men to see me like this.”
Matty’s smile was tender. “I’m sure they wouldn’t find a thing wrong with it. Luke seems quite concerned about you.”
Corrie shrugged. “He’s just protective. He can’t help worrying about anything or anyone he thinks is hurting or fragile.”
Matty raised her eyebrows as if preparing to argue with Corrie’s conclusion, but instead she rested her hand on Corrie’s abdomen. “How’s the little one?” She rubbed in gentle circles, which eased the stretched, achy feeling.
“Busy as always.” Corrie couldn’t help but grin. “I think this one is going to have Bertie’s energy.”
“We can hope it’s more easily channeled,” Matty commented, then paused her rubbing to trace her fingers along the center of Corrie’s apron where it covered the gap in her dress.
“It’s not a problem,” Corrie assured her. “My apron covers it, though the space seems to get wider by the day.”
“For someone whose blessing was almost invisible for so many months, you’re certainly advertising your condition now.” Matty put a hand on either side of Corrie’s stomach. She stretched her fingers wide, as though trying to encompass the entire width in her open hands. The babe squirmed. Matty’s eyes widened. “Does the little one often kick on both sides at the same time?”
Corrie nodded. “Especially when I’m trying to rest.”
A secretive smile came into Matty’s eyes. “I wonder—”
Before she could say the words, Corrie comprehended. She felt her eyes widen with shock. “Two babies?” she whispered. “Twins?”
Matty caressed Corrie’s stomach again. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful? I’ve always loved being a twin.”
Tears pooled in Corrie’s eyes. For the first time since Matty’s marriage, she felt as if the special bond she’d shared with this sister might not be broken after all. She hugged her twin fiercely. “It would be special for them, but how am I going to take care of two babies at once?”
Matty pulled back from the hug to look deeply into Corrie’s eyes. “You won’t have to do it alone, Corrie. We’re all here for you, and nothing will change that, whether you have one baby or two.” She must have seen the doubts that still swirled in Corrie’s mind. “Sis, there’s no way to know for sure until the baby is born. You fretting isn’t good for the little one—or ones. Try not to worry, okay?”
Corrie tried to smile reassuringly, once again hoping her twin wouldn’t read her thoughts. How could she tell Matty that being dependent on her sisters wasn’t what she wanted?
Chapter 3
In the following weeks, Corrie found herself alone only at night. Bess and Matty took turns staying in the farmhouse while the other did outside chores. Even Luke seemed to always be nearby, ready to lift, reach, or bend for her. Rarely did she have to gather eggs anymore. No matter how early she awoke, when she came downstairs, the full basket sat on the counter, awaiting her attention.
Her girth continued to increase, and movement became more difficult. “If this baby gets any bigger, I’m going to explode,” she complained to Matty one afternoon as she sat near the table with her feet up on a stool, as Matty had instructed. No longer were daily naps adequate. Matty now insisted Corrie stop her work every hour and put her feet up for at least ten minutes.
“I shouldn’t tell you this, but you’ll get a lot bigger, especially if there’s—” Corrie cut her off. “Don’t say it. I don’t want anyone else to know until we’re certain.” She couldn’t confess that hearing the word twins out loud would make her intuition too strong to ignore. The mere thought of being responsible for two little lives, rather than just one, felt overwhelming. The bakery business expanded along with her waistline, and Corrie could see hope of supporting herself and her little one eventually. But she felt herself slowing down daily. By the beginning of December, she wouldn’t be doing much baking at all and likely wouldn’t be ready to resume until February. If she had twins, she knew it would be much longer before she’d be able to do anything but care for her little ones.
She rubbed her belly with one hand while using the other to hold a glass of water to her lips. That was another of Matty’s edicts. Corrie had to drink one full glass of water during each of her breaks. “I declare, I feel as if I don’t do anything but take breaks and go to the necessary,” she often complained.
But Matty remained firm. “It wouldn’t hurt you a bit if that’s all you did do. Just be grateful I don’t ban you from the kitchen entirely.”
So Corrie sat and sipped her water. She already felt an indescribable bond with the little one—or ones—she sheltered within her body. Impatient though she felt with Matty’s restrictions, she wouldn’t, for a moment, do anything to harm this new life.
She saw the minute hand on the clock tick past the ten-minute mark and pushed herself to her feet again. A large bowl of dough awaited her attention. “Should I make buns or sweet rolls?” she wondered aloud.
“Sweet rolls are tempting,” Matty admitted, ladling hot jam into jars. “But with Jim and Luke leaving in two days to herd cattle, buns would probably come in more handy.”
Corrie agreed. “You’re right. I’d forgotten about them leaving. If I have the energy tomorrow, I’ll do up some sweet rolls to send with them.”
“You spoil those men!” Matty declared with a laugh.
Corrie just shrugged and changed the subject. “How long will they be gone?”
Matty’s expression turned sober. “Jim says maybe as long as a week. He says it takes awhile to round up all the strays and check the herd over for problems. This will be the first time we’ve been apart since we married.”
The words brought a rush of memories. How well Corrie knew Matty’s feelings! Just a month after Corrie and Brian’s marriage, Brian left for a week on the fishing boat. The pattern for their marriage had been established then. Weeks away and days at home. Not once did Corrie find it easy to say good-bye to her husband, even though she knew his departure was necessary. She knew nothing she could say would make the separation any easier for Matty.
The morning the men left, she woke early to be with Matty. Silence hovered between them as Matty closed the door. It was a silence that went deeper than lack of conversation, the silence they’d shared at many other moments in their lives when words simply wouldn’t express the emotions they felt. Corrie pulled her sister near in a tight embrace. With a firm prod, the baby protested being included.
“Goodness!” Matty laughed, even while wiping tears from her eyes.
“Tell me about it,” Corrie groaned, moving slowly to the counter where the basket of eggs awaited her. Even on this morning, Luke had done his bit to ease her load. “His favorite time for exercise is just when I’m trying to fall asleep. Sometimes it actually hurts.”
“Poor mama,” Matty said in the tone that never failed to make Corrie feel utterly wrapped in love. She massaged Corrie’s shoulders then worked her way down to Corrie’s lower back. “Does that help?”
Bartered Bride Romance Collection Page 27