The Courtship of Izzy McCree

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  Oh, what must he think of her? There was no way she could possibly explain. The thought of speaking about something so intimate was too shocking to imagine.

  She studied the dark hair that reached almost to his back. She even lifted a hand to touch it as he had touched hers. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead she lowered her hand and closed her eyes. And, like the man beside her, fell into an exhausted sleep.

  Chapter Five

  “Sweet salvation.”

  Izzy awoke with a start. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, then glanced quickly toward the other side of the bed. It was empty. She’d been so sound asleep she hadn’t even heard Matthew moving around the room.

  His bloody clothes were still soaking in the basin. But his boots and jacket were missing from the floor.

  Without bothering to wash, she pulled on her clothes and shoes and hurried out of the bedroom.

  The cabin was empty. There was a fire burning, and dirty dishes littered the table.

  She draped a shawl around her shoulders and went in search of the others. The sound of voices led her some distance behind the barn.

  The first thing she spotted was Del, staring up a tree. Benjamin, high above her, was inching his way slowly along a branch, holding a smoking torch in his hand. Just above him was a beehive. Swarming around his head were dozens of bees.

  “Benjamin.” Izzy’s voice was choked with fear. “Look out. You’re going to get stung.”

  “I guess he’s been stung a hundred times or more.” Del’s voice rang with pride. “But it’s the only way he knows to get their honey.”

  As Izzy watched in amazement, the boy held the torch near the hive. After a few minutes the activity around it seemed to slow down, as the bees were overcome by the smoke. In one quick motion Benjamin reached into the hive. When he withdrew his arm, it was black with bees. He merely brushed them off as he shinnied down the tree. Once on the ground he held out his prize, which he broke into pieces to share with the others.

  “Here, Del.” He gave the biggest piece to his little sister.

  “This is for you, Isabella.”

  She accepted the sweet treat and smiled as she licked the honey from the comb. “If you find more, I’ll be happy to use them for a special dessert.”

  “There’s plenty more.” Benjamin pointed to the trees that towered over them. “I know of a dozen or more hives right around here.”

  “He brings me honey whenever I get hungry,” Del said proudly.

  Izzy studied the boy with new respect.

  Then, feeling she owed the children an apology, she said, “I’m sorry I slept so late. My journey must have left me more weary than I realized.”

  “It’s all right.” Del gave her a smile that was sweeter than the honey that dripped from her lips. “Pa said to let you sleep as long as you wanted.”

  Izzy glanced around. “Where is your father?”

  Benjamin nodded in the direction of the mountain. “Pa and Aaron went up into the hills to track a herd of mustangs.”

  “What for?”

  “That’s how Pa earns his living. By taming wild horses to saddle for the army.”

  “I thought he was a rancher.”

  Benjamin mopped his brow with his sleeve. “That’s what Pa wants to be. But right now, until our herd is big enough, he has to do something else to pay the bills.”

  “Isn’t it dangerous, chasing after wild horses?”

  Brother and sister shared a knowing smile.

  “It isn’t the chasing that’s dangerous,” Benjamin said. “It’s breaking them to saddle. Pa’s been thrown off a horse so many times, it’s a wonder he can still walk.”

  Izzy felt her heart lurch at the image. “Will he and Aaron be back for supper?”

  The boy shrugged and returned his attention to the honeycomb. “We never know. Sometimes they’re home in a day. Sometimes, when they find the tracks of mustangs, they follow them for days or weeks.”

  “Weeks?” Perhaps she had won a reprieve. It could be weeks before she would have to deal with her private fears. Suddenly another thought intruded. “But what about you children? Do you mean you’re left alone for weeks at a time?”

  “Yes’m.” Benjamin seemed surprised by the question. “It doesn’t matter. We just go about our chores, the same as always.”

  “But what if you should have a need of your father or older brother?”

  “What for?” the boy asked innocently.

  Izzy’s mind raced. “I don’t know. An accident, for instance.”

  “One of us would head up into the hills for Pa. And the other would go to town for the doc.” Benjamin pointed to the rifle resting against the trunk of a nearby tree. “Pa taught us how to handle a gun as soon as we were old enough to hold it. And he taught us a signal to use in case of any kind of trouble. Three shots, one after the other, would bring him and Aaron running.”

  “Well, that’s certainly comforting. If he’s close enough to hear.” She felt sick at heart thinking about these children, who were apparently raising themselves.

  Just then she glanced up to see Clement emerging from the woods. Over his shoulder he carried a fistful of pelts. “Have you been trapping, Clement?”

  He shrugged. Unlike Benjamin, with his coarse dark hair and wide smile, this golden-haired boy seemed more comfortable with the hounds and horses than with people. “Yes’m. I don’t much like killing critters. I’ll only trap those that give us trouble. Like this one.” He held up a sleek white-and-bronze pelt. “This mountain cat was ready to pounce on Del’s pony a few days ago. I had to shoot it. Then I skinned it and hung the pelt to dry on some tree branches.”

  “What will you do with it?”

  “Make a parka for Del. And maybe some leggings.” He reached into his shirtfront and held out a small, twitching bundle of fur. “Found this in the woods, too. What was left of its ma was nearby. Probably killed by a coyote.”

  “Ooh. Can I keep it, Clement?” Del eagerly accepted the bunny and pressed it to her cheek.

  “I guess so. But you’ll have to hide it from the hounds.”

  “Maybe we could build a cage,” Izzy offered.

  The boy nodded. “I guess we could.”

  “Clement’s always had a way with critters.” Del cuddled the bunny like a rag doll. “The first time he came home with a family of rabbits that had lost their ma, Pa raised holy…” She stopped, realizing what she’d almost said. “And even after they were big enough to be turned loose, they kept coming back to the cabin, looking for Clement.”

  “Pa had a hard time getting us to eat rabbit stew after that,” Benjamin said with a laugh.

  “Oh, my.” Izzy was aghast. “I guess I’d have a hard time, too. After all, they were your pets.”

  The boy gave a shy shrug. “They aren’t really pets, except to Del. They’re food. Just like the geese and ducks and deer. Without them we’d starve. Game gets pretty scarce here in winter. Especially if we have a blizzard. And nothing’s wasted. Pa taught me how to tan the hides for mittens and boots.”

  Izzy knew what it was to go hungry. Still, she admired the boy’s ability to handle these creatures in such a forthright manner. It was a trait he’d obviously inherited from his father.

  “Here, Clement.” Benjamin handed his brother the last of his honeycomb. “I saved this for you.”

  “Mmm. Thanks.” The boy dropped his pelts and began to lick the honey, enjoying every drop.

  Izzy sighed. “I guess I’d better get back to the cabin and start something for a midday meal.”

  “No need.” Clement gave her a smile. “Pa had us pack up some biscuits and venison before we left the cabin this morning.”

  “It looks like your father thought of everything.” She turned away. “I’ll expect you at suppertime, then.”

  She left them and made her way back to the cabin. Along the way she mulled over all she’d seen and heard. These children had learned to take good care of one another. They were
willing to share unselfishly. It was plain that they’d had a good teacher.

  Matthew Prescott, it would seem, was a man who took nothing for granted. And she would try not to think too harshly of him. After all, circumstances had thrust him into this situation. Without a mother to be there for his children, he’d been forced to teach them that there was no room for sentimentality. Instead they needed to be self-sufficient, industrious, independent. And loyal to one another.

  She intended to prove that she would be no less.

  Not wanting to ruin her only gown, Izzy slipped one of Matt’s shirts over her clothes. It hung below her knees.

  She knew that it would take superhuman effort to clean the cabin in a single day. But she could at least make a dent in the debris.

  She began by hauling buckets of water from a nearby creek and heating them over the fire. Into these she poured a generous amount of lye soap before filling them with all the clothes that were lying around the floor. Soon a length of rope strung between two trees bloomed with britches and shirts and assorted stockings. Next she hauled all the bedding outdoors and hung it out to air, as well as the animal hides that served as beds for the children in their loft. Then she climbed to the loft and swept it clean before descending the ladder and sweeping the debris out the door. That done, she emptied the buckets of hot water and soap onto the cabin floor and the floor of the loft and scrubbed until the wood gleamed.

  While the floors dried she walked around the cabin, washing the windows. That led to the discovery of a root cellar, dug beneath the cabin. Descending wooden stairs, she found several shelves filled with assorted fruits, most of which were dried and shriveled. There were apples, cherries, berries and nuts. Packed into the cool earth and covered with a layer of sand to keep them fresh was a variety of vegetables—potatoes and carrots, beets and rutabagas. To Izzy, it was a treasure trove. She chose carefully, wrapping her selection in the tail of Matt’s shirt.

  In the barn she located the venison, cut into portions and wrapped in the hide. She selected a choice cut, then carried it to the cabin and placed it in a huge kettle, along with the vegetables. She then kneaded dough and set it aside to rise, before returning to her chores.

  The sun was beginning to set by the time she hauled the clothes and bedding inside and began sorting and folding. She climbed the ladder to the loft several more times before all the beds were made up. On pegs along one wall she hung the children’s clean clothes.

  Downstairs she carefully hung Matt’s clothes on pegs in the bedroom and made up the bed with fresh linen.

  Knowing it would soon be time for supper, she removed the old shirt rolled her sleeves, and washed carefully. Then she brushed her hair and tied it back with a comb. That done, she carried the basin to the other room, filled it with fresh water from a bucket, and placed it on a small stand beside the door, with a clean linen towel and a portion of lye soap beside it.

  For a moment she stood back, admiring her handiwork. She was exhausted. But it was a good exhaustion. She had been doing what she had always dreamed of—cleaning her own home.

  Oh, the very thought of that word filled her with a quiet joy.

  She was just setting the table with the pretty china plates and cups when she heard the sound of hoofbeats. She opened the door in time to see Matthew and Aaron striding from the barn, with Benjamin, Clement and Del alongside.

  At their feet were the hounds, wet and bedraggled from the stream they’d just forded.

  Before she could say a word, the dogs pushed past her and bounded inside, shaking themselves furiously, spraying muddy water in all directions before circling the table, sniffing the air.

  “Oh!” Izzy stared in horror, then stood with her hands on her hips. “Shoo. Get out of here. Go on.”

  They ignored her cries. Even when she applied her hands to their rumps and tried shoving them away, they didn’t budge. In fact, thinking it was a display of affection, they decided to return the favor by wiggling and licking her until she managed to get free of them.

  When she turned, she caught sight of the trail of muddy footprints left by Matt and the children, who were busy tossing aside their jackets and prying off their mud-caked boots, which they left in a heap.

  “Something smells good.” Aaron turned to her with a big smile. Then he caught sight of the look on her face. “What’s wrong, Isabella?”

  “What’s wrong? After all my work, the dogs just…and all of you just…”

  “The dogs are hungry, and so are we,” Matt said with a frown. “We’ve put in a long day.”

  “Have you now? And what about me?” Glaring, she faced him while the dogs milled about their feet.

  “The last time I saw you,” he said through gritted teeth, “you were sleeping like a baby.”

  In frustration she turned away before she said more than she ought. After all, she reminded herself, this wasn’t really her house. She had only been fooling herself. This was Matthew’s house. It belonged to Matthew and his children. It even belonged more to his dogs than it did to her. “I—” she indicated the basin of water “—expect you to wash up before supper.”

  Matt glowered at her stiff spine, her hands fisted at her sides. What the hell did she have to be angry at? He’d left her alone last night, hadn’t he? And he’d allowed her to sleep in while he and the children went off to their chores. And now she was insisting that he wash before she would feed him. Well, if it was a fight she wanted, he’d be happy to oblige.

  Still…something did smell wonderful. And he was starving after a day on the trail.

  They’d settle this later.

  Without a word he rolled his sleeves and began to wash. When he’d finished his hands and arms, he splashed water over his face and hair, then dried himself.

  “Will you look at this, Pa?” Aaron lifted the lid on the kettle, inhaling the wonderful fragrance that spiraled upward. He reached for the knife at his waist, intending to slice off a piece of meat.

  “Wait,” Izzy cried. “I think…you should wash up first.”

  Aaron glanced at his father. Without a word, a signal passed from father to son. The boy reluctantly moved to the basin and washed.

  “Benjamin, Clement, Del,” Izzy said, “I’d be grateful if you would do the same.”

  “What for?” Benjamin spoke for all of them. “We’ll just get dirty again when we do our chores tomorrow.”

  “Yes, you will. But at least you’ll be clean when you gather around the table.”

  The three turned to their father. “Do we have to, Pa?”

  “I think,” Matt said, “if you want to sample Isabella’s cooking, you’d better do as she asks.”

  “Yes, sir.” Benjamin went first, dipping his hands into the water as though he expected to be burned. When he picked up the linen towel, Izzy shook her head.

  “Use the soap, Benjamin. And wash all the way to your elbows, and then your face, neck and ears, as well.”

  The boy looked as unhappy as a condemned man, but he did as he was told. His younger brother and sister followed suit. When they were finished, they took their places around the table.

  Izzy turned from the fire with a platter of venison surrounded by potatoes and carrots and a bowl of rich brown gravy. On another plate she arranged a dozen perfectly browned biscuits. Before she could even take her seat, Matt and the children filled their plates and began stuffing the food in their mouths.

  “Mmm, this is just about the best I’ve ever tasted,” Del said over a mouthful. “It’s even better’n yours, Benjamin.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” Aaron muttered.

  “Toss me a biscuit,” Matt called, and Benjamin tossed one across the table. Matt caught it, popped it into his mouth, then, surprised, began to chew more slowly.

  By the time Izzy got to the table, the others had already eaten their fill and were busy tossing scraps to the dogs.

  “I don’t know how you got the gravy so smooth,” Benjamin said, draining his seco
nd glass of milk.

  “And the biscuits,” Clement added. “How’d you get them so soft?”

  “The next time I bake them, I’ll show you,” Izzy said.

  She bowed her head and whispered a prayer. Ordinarily she would ask a blessing on the food. But this night she prayed for patience. In ample supply to keep from killing the entire Prescott family.

  The others watched in silence.

  “What do you say, Isabella, when you pray?” Del asked innocently.

  “If you’d like, I’ll teach you the words.”

  Seeing the looks on her brothers’ faces, the little girl shook her head. “That’s all right. I guess I don’t need to know.”

  Aaron reached for another helping. “Isabella, Pa and I have cooked lots of venison. But it’s never been this tender.”

  “That’s because it had time to cook. If I were going to cook a whole side of beef, as you did the other day, I’d leave it over the fire for a day and a night.”

  “A whole day and a night?” Aaron looked doubtful.

  Benjamin wiped the milk from his mouth and asked, “Did you make this dinner special because it was your first, Isabella? Or is it always going to taste like this?”

  Despite her disgust at their lack of manners, she had to smile. “I guess that will depend on what your father provides. As long as the venison and vegetables hold out, you won’t have to worry.”

  As the children began to drift away from the table she said, “You may want to stay around for a while.”

  “What for?” Del asked.

  “I made a special dessert.”

  “Dessert? Where is it?” They dashed back to the table.

  “I’ll get it as soon as I’ve finished eating.” She deliberately took small bites, chewing slowly, making them wait impatiently.

  She felt the heat stain her cheeks as they sat watching her.

  Finally she crossed to the fire, where she removed a pan that had been warming. Into bowls she spooned a mixture of honeyed apple slices, topped by biscuit dough and cinnamon.