Abandoned Bride (Dakota Brides Book 2)
Page 5
She chuckled at the idea.
He studied her. “You’ve been busy. Cleaning, baking bread and cake, making meals. I don’t suppose you had time for anything else.”
“Joey and I went for a walk around the place. I was looking for a garden spot. Do you suppose I could plant a garden?”
“A garden?” He’d never considered having one. “Percy has one by the cookhouse. He’s the one who cooks for the men when they are here. He likes his store of potatoes, carrots, and turnips.”
She smiled at him, her eyes wide.
He realized she waited for him to answer her. “I’ll get a spot ready for you tomorrow.”
She held her hands up, palms toward him. “That’s not necessary. I know you’re busy. Show me where I can put it and I’ll prepare the place.”
“I’m not too busy to do it.” He leaned back to study her. “Guess you must plan to be around for a while if you’re putting in a garden.”
“I’m planning to stay. Don’t you believe me?”
He shrugged. “Guess I find it hard. I’ve never found that people stay all that much.”
“What do you mean?”
He shouldn’t have mentioned it, but now that he had, he had to try and explain it. “I told you. People die. Or leave. Like Harry.”
“And the girl you loved? What was her name?”
“Luanne. We were so young and full of dreams. She was seventeen. I was eighteen. Harry and I had just moved out here. I wanted this ranch to be big and successful. I wanted kids and a home. She wanted flowers outside the door and a little girl she could dress up pretty.”
“It sounds lovely. What happened?”
“She got sick that winter and passed away before the flowers bloomed.”
“That’s sad. And you’ve never gotten over it.”
He considered her words. Somehow they didn’t seem quite true. “It wasn’t just Luanne’s death that made me decide love and marriage wasn’t for me. I guess you could say her passing was the final nail in the coffin of caring.”
“But you care about Gus.”
“Gus has been around a long time. Long before I decided I wouldn’t let myself care anymore.”
She picked up the letters and held them between her fingers. “Sounds mighty lonely to me.” Her sudden laugh surprised him. “Here I am saying how lonely you sound when sometimes, even amidst a family the size of mine, I often felt lonely.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible.”
“It is easy to be overlooked among so many. One time… Well, it doesn’t matter.”
“I’d like to hear. Whatever it is, it’s made you leave your home and travel thousands of miles in the hopes of marrying a stranger. Tell me.”
She nodded. “Many times I felt like I was forgotten. But this particular time I remember so clearly. I was nine years old. We were walking home from church. It was dark and cold and snow crunched under our feet. I remember a flash of green in the sky and I slowed to watch the northern lights. In Norwegian folklore, the lights are the spirits of old maids dancing in the sky and waving. Mamma and Papa had scolded me several times for lagging behind. The previous Sunday they had left for church without me because I stopped to pet some kittens. Britta and Leif, my older brother and sister, were way ahead of our parents. Mamma and Papa carried and led the little ones and told me to hurry because it was cold and Kirsti, the baby, was tired.
“But the dancing in the sky held my attention. Those old maids were so free and happy, dancing and waving. No one told them to hurry up. I watched them, and maybe I lost track of time. Because when I heard a growl behind me, I looked around for Papa or Leif to help me but they were far ahead. I called, but none of them turned around. I yelled and screamed, but then the dog grabbed my coat sleeve. I knew it would kill me if it could. I batted at it with my hands and kicked at it. Then I saw a branch on the trail. I snatched it up and hit the dog on his nose. He yelped and ran away and I ran as fast as I could to catch up to my family. When I got home Mamma scolded me because of the tear in my coat. ‘Child,’ she said, ‘Why are you so much trouble?’ I understood then that I was too much trouble and I couldn’t count on anyone to help me. I had to take care of myself. It’s a lesson that was driven home time after time. Mor got sick a little later and I had to go stay with my aunt because I was too much trouble for Mor to take care of. I heard Britta tell Mor she couldn’t handle me. I remember standing outside the door, saying to myself, ‘No one has to take care of me. I take care of myself.’” She stopped and drew in a breath. “I’m sure that is much more than you hoped to hear.” Her fingers locked together.
Sam reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I don’t think they meant you were too much trouble, but I would be the first to say you can take care of yourself. And everyone around you.”
She smiled. “I think that is a compliment, ja?”
“Yes. I am very grateful for the hot meal tonight.”
“So you don’t object to me staying?”
“If you plant a garden, I think you’ll have to stay until it’s harvested.”
She grinned. “And then I’ll have to stay and use the produce. Then I’ll have to stay and plant another in the spring.”
He might like that idea except for a few problems. What if Harry came back for her or sent for her? Wouldn’t she be obligated to her promise to him? And then there was Joey. Harry’s son. If Harry decided to live up to his responsibilities, both Elin and Joey would leave.
He’d had quite enough of people leaving him. He would not allow himself to care more than good manners required.
Elin couldn’t believe she’d told Sam a silly story from when she was nine years old though she knew that the incident, reinforced by similar ones over the years, had shaped who she had become. And she didn’t regret that. She had enjoyed taking care of this house, caring for Joey and Gus and, to a lesser degree, Sam. It was a pleasure to earn his favor.
“Thanks for the meal.” He pushed from the table. “It’s getting late. Good night.”
She stared after him as his bedroom door closed. Why had he grown cold and distant and in a hurry to get away? Was it talk about the garden? She hung her head. She’d been presumptuous in speaking as if they planned to share a future together.
How like her. Either she was lagging behind everyone else or running ahead blindly. Like her mama said. She was too much trouble.
She took the dirty dishes to the wash pan. They could wait until morning to be washed. She looked around. Yes, she might have run ahead with her thoughts, but there was no mistake in thinking that Sam and Gus and Joey needed her. She would make this place hers and prove to everyone how much she was needed.
She startled awake the next morning with Joey standing by her bed, staring at her.
“Hi,” he said.
She mumbled a response.
“Sam come back?”
“Yes, he’s back.”
“Okay.” He dashed for the door. “I go see him.” He was gone before Elin could get her head off the pillow. She lay back, enjoying another moment in bed.
Sam’s laughter came from the other room. At least he wasn’t annoyed at the little boy.
Time to prove how valuable she was. She dressed quickly and braided her hair, leaving it hanging free. She hurried into the kitchen and ground the coffee. At home the coffee always came first. She set it to boil then began breakfast. Griddle cakes, biscuits, eggs—the men ate a lot. She didn’t know if they were starved from cooking for themselves or if they always ate that much.
Sam emerged, Joey perched in his arms. “Joey’s been telling me all the adventures he had yesterday.”
“Ja? And what would they be?”
Joey pulled a frog from his pocket.
Elin shuddered. “Sure glad that thing didn’t get into my bed during the night.”
Sam chuckled. “We’ve decided the frog should be in Percy’s garden. We’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” He eyed the coffeepot and si
ghed and then, Joey still in his arms, he left the house.
Elin watched them cross the yard and disappear behind the bunkhouse. She turned her attention back to breakfast, and when she checked a few minutes later, they reappeared, walking side by side, Joey talking and waving his arms.
Gus joined her at the window. “Looks like young Joey has decided to like his new home.” He hitched up his pants and grabbed a cup to fill with coffee. “’Course, maybe he just likes having a man in his life. You couldn’t ask for a better one than Sam. He’s four times the man that Harry is. That boy was spoiled beyond redemption by his father.”
Elin could think of nothing to say, but tucked away the information to add to the picture of Sam that was steadily growing in her mind. Too bad Sam hadn’t been the one to correspond with her. But then, that wouldn’t have happened as Sam made it clear he had no intention of letting himself care about anyone.
Her gaze settled on Joey. If he grew fond of Sam only to lose that connection, would it have the same effect on him as losing people had on Sam? The boy had already lost so much.
If only Harry had kept his word to her. But if he was as unreliable as Gus implied and as his actions proved, would he make a good husband and father?
She shrugged and returned to her work. It wasn’t as if she could change things one way or the other. All she had was the present situation, and she meant to make the most of it.
They sat at the table for breakfast. After grace, Gus wanted to know how things had gone with the cattle. Sam told him.
“A dozen more missing? Perhaps you should hire some more men and post more guards.”
Sam nodded. “I will do that if this continues. Right now I have more men working at night than in the day.”
Gus sucked back a mouthful of coffee before he spoke again. “We should have asked the Scanlons if there have been any rumblings in town about rustling.”
“They had other things on their mind.” Sam’s gaze rested on Elin.
She had no desire to return to that scene. “It is okay. As Gus said, likely telling the truth would not change their minds.”
Sam’s chuckle lacked mirth. “That’s so. They choose to believe what they want. Unfortunately, they prefer the worst version they can find. Or create.”
Joey cleaned up his breakfast. “Go see kitties?”
“Sure,” Sam said.
“Then go find froggie?”
Sam studied the boy. “Froggie might be hunting bugs and not want to be disturbed.”
“Bugs?” Joey looked shocked.
“That’s what frogs eat.”
“Yuck. I not like frogs.” Joey shook his head hard enough to send his hair into a halo around his face.
Elin laughed, pleased when Sam and Gus’s laughter joined hers.
“I play with kitties?”
“They’re a little small yet,” Sam said. “Tell you what? Why don’t we find something else for you to play with?”
Joey’s smile wreathed his face. “Yes.”
“Take your dishes to the wash basin,” Sam said.
“Okay.” Joey did as he was told.
It was on the tip of Elin’s tongue to say it wasn’t necessary. But Sam didn’t give her a chance.
“It’s never too early to learn responsibility.”
Elin nodded.
“Go now?” Joey asked, standing by Sam’s chair.
“Is your bed made?”
Joey shook his head.
“Then get it done.”
Joey raced for the bedroom, but skidded to a halt at the door way. “I not know how.”
“It’s easy.” Sam got to his feet. “I’ll show you.”
Elin watched from a distance as Sam helped Joey tug the covers up.
“Good?” Joey asked.
Sam squeezed the boy’s shoulders. “You did fine. Now let’s go find you something.”
Together they left the house. Elin chuckled as she watched them from the window. “Look at Joey imitating Sam.”
“Couldn’t ask for anyone better to imitate.”
Elin continued to watch, though her gaze rested on Sam. A good man who would make a good father. And a good husband?
She jerked away from the window and set to work cleaning the kitchen. He didn’t want to be a husband. Harry didn’t want to be her husband. She pushed away the bitter thought that she didn’t matter here any more than she did in Norway.
I will make my presence matter, she vowed again. Those words were becoming the motto of her life.
She washed the dishes and searched the cupboards for something to make for the next meal. There were only a few staples. She found a bag of split peas and some cornmeal. Soup and cornbread would have to do.
A rattling sound drew her to the window. Sam led a horse hitched to a plow. Joey rode on Sam’s shoulders.
Elin ran from the house and joined them. “Where are you going to put the garden?”
“Where would you like it?” He lifted Joey to the ground and pulled objects from his pocket. “Here’s your toys.”
“Those are strange-looking toys.” Two odd-shaped pieces of wood, a buckle from a harness, a bit of old leather, a bent horseshoe nail.
“This is a horse.” He lifted the piece of wood. One by one, with a great deal of imagination, the objects became the makings of a farm. “He’ll go round up some cows as soon as he’s got the farm prepared.”
“Cows?”
“Yup. Lots of them. Look. There’s a good one.” He pointed to a small stone and Joey added it to his collection. “Do you mind waiting while Joey and I pick out the farm site?”
“Not at all.” She crossed her arms and grinned as the pair circled the house. She could hear Sam’s comments. “Soils too hard. There’s not shade. Wait. Right here is good.”
Elin noted that the spot was beside the back door, which would make it easy to keep an eye on the boy as he played.
More talk as they laid out the plans for Joey’s farm.
“Now you stay here while I help Elin with her garden.”
“’Kay.”
Sam opened the door. “Gus, Joey is playing here.”
Elin’s admiration for Sam’s kindness grew as she realized Sam had managed to ask Gus to keep an eye on the boy without making Joey feel he was being watched.
Sam returned to the horse and plow. “You look excited about the garden.”
She realized that her feelings about the way Sam handled Joey must show in her eyes and he’d taken it to mean she thought of the garden. Let him think so. “It will be good to get the seeds in the ground.”
“Seeds? I never thought of that. I wonder if Percy has any to spare?”
“Not a problem. I got all I need from Anker and Lena when I visited them.”
“Anker is your cousin, right?”
She nodded, her gaze inspecting a site for the garden. Yesterday, she’d picked out a spot she thought would be ideal. But would Sam agree?
“Did you have a place in mind?” he asked.
Her heart lightened to know he would consult her. She pointed to a place behind the house. “The ground is soft there and is close enough to take the water from the dishes. You think that is a good spot?”
“Looks fine to me. How big?”
She paced it off. “This big.”
“Okay, lady. Stand back and let me and Claude plow you a garden.” He grabbed the reins.
Elin stood at the corner of the house, watching the sod turn over.
Gus joined her. “So you’re going to put in a garden?”
“Yes.”
“Good. It means you are going to make your home here. In time, Sam will see the wisdom of it.”
“Maybe he already has.”
Gus grunted. “I don’t mean the arrangement you have now.”
She brought her attention to the old man. “I don’t understand.”
“Figure it out, girl. The Scanlons are not the only ones who will be shocked that you are living here with two men. Even
if one is old as dirt. Sam needs to do right by you. For sure Harry isn’t going to. Responsibility has never held any appeal to him.” Gus brought a chair from the kitchen and put it where he could watch both Joey and Sam, each farming in his own way.
Elin didn’t try and find an answer to Gus’s prediction. Instead, she returned to the kitchen and set to work cooking, though she glanced out the window often to watch progress on the garden.
She’d thought along the same lines as Gus, only she didn’t cling to any hope that Sam would change his mind. She didn’t intend to build her future on possibilities. She’d stick to what she knew she could control—cooking, cleaning, planting, and generally making herself so useful they wouldn’t be able to manage without her.
What did it matter if she longed for more?
Chapter 6
Sam had the sod all turned by noon. He took Claude to the barn to rest and enjoy his ration of oats. Sam never considered himself a farmer, only grew oats out of necessity to feed his horses, but working the garden and thinking of how homey if felt to be doing so had made the morning enjoyable.
He washed at the pump and crossed to the house. The aroma of food had called to him for the past hour. Something savory. He stepped inside and sniffed in appreciation. “Smells mighty good.”
“I hope it tastes equally as good.” Elin stood at the table before a large pot. A pan of cornbread and jug of syrup sat beside the pot.
“Sit,” Gus ordered. “We’re all hungry.”
Sam jerked forward. He hadn’t meant to stand and stare, but the smiling greeting, the house full of delicious aromas, a child and a woman to greet him…it grabbed at his heart and squeezed. He had once dreamed of claiming such as his own.
He shook his head, hoping to clear his thoughts. After Luanne, he had allowed himself to forget the pain of sudden loss. Only to be reminded again. It wasn’t a mistake he meant to repeat, and yet the longing inside clawed at his thoughts until he could hardly squelch it.
He sank to a chair. Thankfully it was Gus’s turn to ask the blessing as Sam couldn’t have gotten a word out his tight throat.