Reluctant Brides Collection

by Cathy Marie Hake

  After their Bible reading, Judy said a special prayer for her father. Angie swallowed hard. How could she bear to leave this dear child?

  Angie took her time changing into her nightgown and brushing out her corkscrew curls. Her dark hair made a thick, wide mound that ended at her waist. She stared at the mirror image of the bush-like mass about her head and wished for shiny waves like a rippling waterfall.

  Wrinkling her nose at her reflection, she formed a braid, blew out the candle, and gently slid between the sheets. Judy instinctively moved closer to her.

  Half asleep, Angie felt a nudge in her ribs. “I’m awful thirsty, Angie.”

  “Must be that salty stew we had for supper.” Shivering, she slid bare feet to the icy floor and lifted the pitcher from the dresser. “Empty. Wouldn’t you know it? I’ll have to go down and fill it.”

  She pulled on her heavy robe and shoved cold feet into cold shoes. Lighting the candle, she headed out the door. If possible, the hall seemed icier than the bedroom.

  From the stairs she saw the dull orange glow of the fireplace. Two shadowy forms sat across from each other at the small table. Angie’s lips twitched into a satisfied smile. Congratulating herself, she glided past the door.

  Barry’s voice made her jump. The candle rocked on the saucer.

  “You win again! If that don’t beat all.”

  Saundra chuckled. “I warned you, Barry. I’ve had lots of practice.” She yawned. “That’s enough for me. I must get my beauty sleep.”

  “I’ll put the game away,” he said. “Thanks for a fun evening, Saundra. We’ll have to do it again.”

  “Good night.” Her soft steps sounded on the stairs.

  Angie waited in the kitchen until she heard a door close overhead. Eyes glinting, breast heaving, she marched into the living room.

  Barry was placing each marble piece into a felt-lined section of a wide wooden box. Suddenly he jerked around. “Oh, hello, Angie. You startled me.”

  “What are you doing here, pray tell?”

  He looked surprised. “What’s got you so het up? My brother, Benji, didn’t want to play checkers after supper, so I rode back. I came inside to see what Lane wanted done in the morning. He was in the middle of a game with Saundra. The game had gone on too long for him. He wanted to turn in, so he asked me to take his place.” He peered at her from floor to crown.

  She suddenly became aware of her tousled hair, her moth-eaten robe. Her cheeks burned but not totally from embarrassment. She set the pitcher and candle on the table and swept her hair out of her face. “I wanted him to spend the evening with Saundra.” She gazed at him, face to face. “You spoiled it. You’re always getting in the way, trying to get close to her.”

  He pushed away from the table and stood to his full five feet nine. “I’m not trying to get close to her. She and I just sort of stumble into each other. That’s natural, living in the same place.”

  His boyish face grew still. “Say, what are you gettin’ at? You jealous or something?” He laughed softly, that teasing look in his eyes.

  “I’ve never been jealous in my life!”

  He gave her his lopsided grin. “You sure look jealous. Your eyes are flashing fire.”

  He reached for her. “Come here, Angie girl. I’ll prove you don’t have nothing to worry about.” He pulled her to him.

  She twisted away. “Stop it, Barry! What if someone comes downstairs?”

  His face grew still. “You never want to kiss me, Angie. No matter when or where.”

  She put her hand on his flannel sleeve. “I’m sorry, Barry. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I trust you. It’s just that—” She didn’t know how to explain without telling all about her plans for Lane and Saundra. Barry was famous for blurting out secrets at the worst possible moment.

  He touched her chin. “How’s about setting a wedding date? You ready yet?”

  She looked down. “Not until Lane finds a—housekeeper. I can’t leave Judy here with only men around. A girl needs a woman.”

  He pursed his lips. “I reckon you’re right, honey, but I sure hope we don’t have to wait too much longer. Our cabin’s ready, and Dad’s holding a job for me. All you have to do is speak the word, and we’ll tie the knot when Lane’s spring crew gets here.”

  “If you want to hurry things up, stay away from Saundra,” she pleaded softly. “Give Lane a chance to get acquainted with her.”

  “Say.” His face showed keen interest. “I think I get it. You’re matchmaking for Lane.” He hooted. “What a belly buster! That hombre’ll never get rehitched. You’re barking up the wrong tree this time, Angie.”

  “Just keep out of Saundra’s way. That’s all I ask.”

  He watched her, a wary look in his eyes. “I’m not avoiding the lady if that’s what you mean.” His chin came up. “You can say what you want about it. I’ll not be rude to her.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Angie?” A wee voice called from upstairs. “Angie, I’m thirsty.”

  Shuffling to the door, she called softly, “Coming, honey. I got held up. I’ll be right there.” She returned to Barry. “Please, Barry, do what I ask. Will you?”

  “I’ll study on it.” He picked up his hat. “Good night—sweetheart.” Without looking at her again, he strode out the back door and into the night.

  Feeling deflated, Angie retrieved the pitcher and candle from the middle of the chessboard and hurried to the kitchen.

  Why had Barry suddenly turned stubborn? This was the first time he’d point-blank refused to do what she asked. And at such a crucial moment.

  She poured water into the pitcher. Men! Who could understand them?

  Chapter 5

  The next morning Lane pushed his scrambled eggs around on his plate, eating little. Since the men had few chores that day, Barry drove Judy to school. As soon as Saundra finished her meal, she picked up the egg basket and headed for the chicken house.

  “Are you feeling well?” Angie asked Lane while she cleared the table.

  “My head feels heavy.” He pushed back his plate. “Maybe I’d best take it easy today.” He stood and reached for his coat. “I’ll see to the stock.” The door banged behind him.

  Delighted that Lane had chosen that moment to go to the barn, Angie peered through the window and saw light snow drifting down. Across the yard Saundra yanked and pried at the chicken house door. Lane veered off course to help.

  Angie grinned. Maybe he’d talk to her as Barry did yesterday.

  But the moment the door snapped open, Lane strode to the barn without a second glance at Saundra.

  Angie sighed. Besides the chess game, Lane had hardly noticed the lovely lady since she arrived almost a week ago. He could be so exasperating.

  Finishing the few dishes, Angie started the laundry. In cold weather she always arranged two chairs facing each other to hold her washtub in the kitchen, a nice setup, so handy to the hot water reservoir. The kitchen stayed too hot for heavy work inside during the summer.

  She was elbow-deep in suds when Saundra returned, scowling. “Two hens didn’t want to get off their nests. They pecked me.”

  “Did you get their eggs?”

  “Nein,” she said abruptly, her lips pressed together. “Only six.” She hung her black cape on a peg by the door.

  Not wanting to push her, Angie said, “I’ll go out later and take care of those biddies.”

  Saundra stepped closer to the washtub. “When you finish your clothes, may I wash some of mine?”

  “Why, surely. You don’t have to ask.” Angie smiled. “We want you to feel at home, Saundra.”

  The German woman’s face softened. “You have been very kind.” She rolled up her sleeves. “What is for lunch? I can start preparing, no?”

  Saundra stood at the counter peeling potatoes when Lane returned. Wringing out a stiff petticoat skirt, Angie noticed a lag in Lane’s footsteps as he crossed the porch. She turned to see his haggard face in the doorw
ay. A worn bridle hung limply in his hand.

  “Lane, you look ill,” Angie said.

  “I’m just tired.” He laid the bridle on a chair while he shrugged out of his sheepskin coat. “I’ll stoke the fire in the living room and stitch this bridle back together. Tell Barry I want to see him when he comes in.” His boots sounded loud in the hall.

  Angie wanted to go after him and tell him he should be in bed, but she held her tongue. Lane Phillips hadn’t spent a day in bed all the years she’d known him.

  Saundra filled the teapot with water. “I’ll make him a cup of tea.”

  “Better make him coffee,” Angie told her. “He can’t abide tea. He says it’s a woman’s drink.”

  An hour later Barry returned with Judy. “The snow’s getting worse, so they canceled school,” he said, pulling off his gloves and rubbing his chapped hands together.

  Judy hugged Angie’s middle, jostling her arm and spraying suds across the floor. “Yippee!”

  Angie laughed at the girl’s enthusiasm. “Change your clothes, girlie. You can shoo those old biddies off their nests. They gave Saundra a bad time this morning.”

  Stepping nearer the hot cookstove, his hands outstretched, Barry looked at Saundra, concerned. “You’d best let me give you a hand with the eggs in the mornings.”

  “Judy can help before she goes to school,” Angie told him firmly. He’d never worried about Angie getting her hand pecked by a feisty hen. What had gotten into him? She splattered a wet skirt across her washboard. “Barry, Lane wants to see you in the living room,” she said tightly.

  Barry’s expression stiffened. He hesitated, watching Angie with a strange light in his eyes. They made eye contact for a lingering moment, sizing each other up as though they’d just seen each other clearly for the first time.

  Barry was the first to break away. He turned and marched out of the kitchen without a backward glance toward his beloved. Angie slapped the skirt with vengeance.

  Saundra’s lilting voice broke the silence. “Judy,” she said brightly, “I’ll come with you to the henhouse so you can give me some lessons on dealing with those hens.”

  They slipped into shawls and hurried outside into a yard filling quickly with fat, sticky flakes. A few minutes later Barry hurried through the kitchen after them. Without breaking stride, he told Angie as he passed her, “I’d best string a rope from the barn to the house in case the snow gets bad. We had a blizzard this time last year.”

  The snow lasted until midafternoon. When the sky cleared, Judy, Barry, and Angie wrapped themselves in triple layers of wool and scrambled into the yard.

  While Judy made a snow angel near the front steps, Barry chased Angie around the yard with a mound of snow in his glove. She laughed and dodged his attempts to reach her face. Suddenly she whirled on him, a snowball in her hand. He ducked, and the missile landed on Judy’s leg.

  In one movement Judy was on her feet, packing snowballs and throwing them at two-second intervals.

  “So that’s the way you want to play, eh?” Barry yelled. He picked up a fat mound of snow and bore down on Judy.

  Squealing, she turned and ran around the corner of the house.

  Wearing her cape and an extra shawl, Saundra came out on the back porch to stand near the edge.

  “Hi, Saundra!” Angie called. “Want to join us?”

  “No, thanks,” she replied, holding her shawl close to her body. “Getting cold and wet isn’t my idea of a good time.” She smiled. “I like to watch, though.”

  The next instant Judy dashed into the yard, a puffing Barry on her heels. He grabbed her and pulled her struggling form backward into the snow. Their laughter filled the yard.

  Drawing apart, Barry and Judy lay still for a moment to catch their breath. Then Barry helped Judy to her feet.

  The moment she regained her balance, Judy reached for more snow. “Here! Catch!” she called to Saundra as she flung a snowball at her. It hit Saundra’s neck and dusted her front.

  “Oh!” the little woman squealed, brushing at the frosty cold dripping down her collar. A disgusted expression came over her face, and she dashed inside the house.

  Unaware of their guest’s discomfort, Judy guffawed and aimed for Angie’s face. A direct hit.

  “Judy, you shouldn’t have hit Saundra!” Barry said, huffing. “She’s not used to playing rough like you are.”

  “Wake up, Barry!” Angie said, her temper boiling over. “She’s not a china doll. And she’s not your responsibility.”

  He stared at her, face still, his gloved hands holding a snowball. “What has gotten into you, Angie? I never knew you could be so mean. Saundra is our guest. We should be nice to her.”

  Angie turned away from him as though she wanted to brush the snow from her face. She was ashamed of herself and still furious at the same time.

  “Wahoo!” Judy shrieked, heaving two missiles at once. They both hit Barry’s chest.

  He stared at Judy, his brow down and his chin up. “Want to play that way, do you?” He chuckled and pulled his neck further down into his collar.

  Judy squealed and dove for cover behind Angie the moment Barry let his snowball fly. It hit the edge of Angie’s wool scarf and splattered on her cheek.

  He gave a triumphant holler and scooped up more ammunition.

  Angie played a few minutes longer, but her heart had gone out of the game. Twilight was minutes away when Judy complained that her feet hurt from the cold, so the girls hurried to the house. Barry went to do the evening chores before supper.

  “I’m sorry, Saundra,” Judy said when they reached the kitchen and found her at the table peeling potatoes. “I didn’t mean to hit your skin. I was aiming for your coat.”

  Saundra dropped a peeled spud into a pot of water and rubbed her chin with the back of her hand. “I feel silly for making such a fuss. I’ve never liked being in snowball fights since I was a girl.”

  “You were laughing at us,” Judy said. “I thought you wanted to join in.”

  “I was acting as a spectator,” she said, smiling at Judy to soften her words, “the same as at a horse race.” She looked at Angie. “Lane just came in to say he’s going up to bed now.”

  “He is? It’s only five o’clock.”

  Saundra looked at Angie, concern in her eyes. “He kept rubbing his brow as if his head hurt.”

  Angie pulled a knife from a drawer and sat down to help Saundra. “I hope he’s better by morning.”

  Saturday Lane moped about the house and fell asleep on the sofa after lunch. When the family gathered for Sunday breakfast, Lane’s head drooped onto his hand. His cheeks were unusually red, and his eyes had a dull, glazed look.

  “Lane Phillips,” Angie said, “you’re not going anywhere this morning except back to bed.”

  He looked at her as though she were far away. “I reckon the cold drive to church won’t do me any good,” he admitted. He scooted his chair back. “Barry, while you’re at the church, tell Jake Sutton I’ve got a yearling I want to sell him, will you? Ask him to come by to look at it next week.”

  “Sure, Lane,” Barry said. He shoveled fried potatoes and bacon into his wide mouth while Saundra refilled his coffee cup.

  Lane plodded toward the stairs. Angie resisted the urge to go after him and lend him her strength. She knew he wouldn’t take it kindly. He hated to be fussed over.

  Sipping his coffee, his plate empty, Barry suddenly noticed Saundra’s silk dress. High at the neck with a mass of tiny pleats across the front, it was the color of ripe cranberries. “I can’t wait to see the look on the ladies’ faces when you walk into church this morning,” he told her. “Chancyville ain’t never seen anything as pretty as you.”

  Angie had a sudden inspiration. “Lane shouldn’t be left alone, Saundra. Would you mind looking after him while we’re gone?”

  Barry gave a puzzled frown.

  Saundra said, “Of course not.” She sent Angie a meaningful look, punctuated by a secret smile. “I�
�ll have lunch ready when you get home.”

  Judy bounced out of her chair. “I want to get there early so I can talk to Molly before the opening session.”

  Barry chuckled and took a last sip of coffee. “The boss has spoken. Let’s get going.” He hustled outside to fetch the horses that were already hitched to the buggy.

  Angie pulled off her apron and smoothed her brown wool dress—the only Sunday dress she’d owned for three years. She suddenly noticed a smooth spot on her right sleeve. This brown dress was made from the same pattern as her work dresses, only from finer fabric. Funny. Until this morning she’d never thought of needing anything else.

  Tying on her navy bonnet, Angie slipped into her ankle-length coat and stepped outside. She ought to be pleased with herself for thinking of a way to force Lane and Saundra together. There was no way Lane could ignore Saundra when they were the only two in the house. She could hear Saundra’s tinkling laugh and see her sparkling blue eyes, her hair neatly rolled into that gorgeous French twist. How could Lane resist her?

  As the buggy headed down the long lane, a strange sinking feeling hit the pit of Angie’s stomach. She pressed a hand against her waist and wondered if she were coming down with something.

  Chapter 6

  On the rear buggy seat, Judy tucked her small hand beneath Angie’s elbow and leaned her head on her shoulder. Angie and Judy always sat in the back of the buggy. The cold wind seemed more brutal in the front. In spite of their sheltered seat, they shivered together under the thick buffalo robe all the way to church.

  Barry hunched inside his jacket and concentrated on the road ahead of them. He didn’t utter a word for the entire half-hour ride.

  West of town, the tiny, whitewashed church stayed chilly in spite of padded foot warmers for every oak pew and a smoking coal stove near the pulpit. Angie clenched her hands inside a fur muff and snuggled close to Judy during the message. Brilliant light streaming through six glazed windowpanes seemed to add to the chill instead of relieving it.