The Courtship of Izzy McCree

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  He took hold of the bridle. In slow, limping strides he led the mare to the gate. His face, his clothes were streaked with sweat and grime. He looked for all the world as though he’d been through a war. And lost.

  “Here, Benjamin. Unsaddle her and rub her down before you turn her into a stall.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How many does that make today, Pa?” Clement asked.

  “Five.” He shook his hat against his knee, sending up a cloud of dust. Then he wiped his sleeve across his forehead in a weary gesture. “Ought to be able to break the whole team inside of a couple of weeks.”

  Izzy shuddered at the thought of how much abuse he would be forced to endure before this was over.

  “You through for the day, Pa?” Del climbed down from her perch on the railing and walked along beside him.

  “Yep. Don’t think I can take much more punishment.” He glanced up as he brushed past Izzy. “Hope you got a heap of food ready. I’m one hungry man.”

  Despite the fact that his tone had been completely impersonal, she felt a little thrill of excitement. It was the first time he’d spoken to her all day. “I’ll get it on the table right away.”

  “Don’t rush.” He paused beside a watering trough. “I’ll need a few minutes to wash up here first.”

  As she gathered the clothes off the line, she paused to watch him plunge his arms into the trough and splash water over his face. Before long the children had joined in, imitating their father. When he ducked his head underwater, they did the same, laughing as they came up for air.

  Izzy hurried over with clean towels. Too late, she realized Matt had removed his shirt and was busy splashing water over his chest. When she handed him a towel, she struggled not to stare.

  “Thank you,” he said formally.

  “You’re welcome.” She knew her words sounded stiff and stilted, but she couldn’t help herself. The wall between them was growing higher and wider by the minute.

  “I’ll…get supper now.” She turned away and hurried to the cabin.

  In the bedroom she folded clothes, laying aside clean pants and shirt for Matt. Then she made her way to the kitchen. While she went about setting the table, slicing bread, carving the roast, she agonized over this latest change in Matt’s mood. She almost preferred his anger to this polite formality.

  The stage might not come this way for months. How could she possibly endure his disdain for so long? In fact, how would she manage to get through an entire meal in Matt’s presence?

  “Mmm. Something smells good.” Del opened the door to the cabin and the dogs raced inside, sniffing at the table, at the skillet.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Izzy watched Matt walk into the bedroom. The door closed. Minutes later, wearing clean clothes, he made his way to the table. The children were already seated, their hair slicked back, faces shiny.

  They looked up at the sound of hoofbeats.

  “Aaron.” Del let out a screech and raced outside, the dogs hot on her heels.

  “Benjamin,” Matt said quietly, “right after supper I want you to rub down old Blue and turn him into his stall. I expect he and Aaron have both put in a hard day.”

  “Yes, sir.” The boy’s grin brightened when his older brother strode through the open doorway.

  As always, Del was walking in his shadow.

  “You made good time, boy.”

  “Yes, sir. Pushed it a bit. Blue and I were both hungry.”

  As he took his place at the table, Matt asked, “You delivered my message?”

  “Yes, sir.” Aaron avoided Izzy’s eyes. Though his father hadn’t told him what the message was, he figured it had something to do with her. And not something good, since he’d seen his father emerging from the barn before dawn. He didn’t have to know much about men and women to figure out that whatever was wrong between them wasn’t getting better. “Mr. Sutton said old Boone’s out on a long run. But when he gets back in town, he’ll do as you asked.”

  Izzy closed her eyes a moment against the pain.

  “This sure looks good, Isabella.” Aaron helped himself to a slab of venison and passed the platter to his father.

  “This bread is still warm, Pa.” Del slathered on freshly churned butter and took a big bite, then decided to take a second piece before passing the rest to her brothers.

  Clement wrinkled his nose at the plate of vegetables. “I don’t like turnips.”

  Aaron took a taste, smiled. “Well, you’ll like these. What’d you do to them, Isabella?”

  “Just mashed them. With a little butter, onion and potato.”

  Clement took a tiny taste, then spooned more onto his plate. “Guess I could eat a little.”

  Izzy sliced the fat off the roast and mixed it with other scraps to entice the dogs away from the table. As she set a pan outside the door they began leaping over one another to get to the food. When they were all outside happily eating, she closed the door, effectively shutting out the commotion.

  At the head of the table, Matt ate in silence. Maybe it was just hunger that made everything taste so good. But even after he was full, he managed to eat one more slice of tender venison and one more piece of bread that melted in his mouth. He found himself wondering if the food tasted so good because of that other hunger that was gnawing at him.

  “There was an army captain in town, Pa.” Aaron drained a glass of milk, then helped himself to another. “I told him about the mustangs. He said he’d send some soldiers out to fetch them next week.”

  “Next week? Didn’t you tell him how many we had to break?”

  “Yes, sir. But he said they’re in a big hurry. Got new recruits from the East and need mounts right away.”

  Matt passed a weary hand over his eyes. “I’d hoped to handle the herd by myself. Looks like you’re going to get your chance to break mustangs, Aaron.”

  “You mean it?” The boy’s eyes lit with pleasure.

  “How about me, Pa?” Benjamin cried. “I’m only two years younger’n Aaron.”

  “I know, boy. And your day will come. But I’d just as soon spare you the bruises for a little while yet.”

  “I don’t mind a few bruises, Pa. And I’m nearly as good a horseman as Aaron.”

  “That you are. But you and Clement and Del are going to have to pick up my chores and Aaron’s for the next week. I think you’ll have more than enough to handle.”

  “But…”

  Izzy touched a hand to Benjamin’s shoulder to silence him. She could see the weariness in his father’s eyes. The last thing she needed was to have Matthew and Benjamin engaged in a battle of words. “Benjamin, I made something to fill your sweet tooth. Cinnamon biscuits. And apple slices in cinnamon with sweet cream.”

  Whatever protest he’d been about to make was forgotten as she served the dessert. The biscuits were so tender they melted in the mouth. And the apple slices warming over the fire were smothered in mounds of whipped, sweetened cream.

  Nobody said a word until their bowls were empty.

  “Isabella.” Aaron downed a third glass of milk and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “That was the best meal I’ve ever tasted.”

  She blushed as she paused beside Matt and filled his cup with hot coffee. “That’s just hunger talking.”

  “No, ma’am. I was just being honest. I’ve never tasted cooking as good as yours.”

  She could feel Matt’s gaze, steady and probing. Her movements were awkward as she returned the coffeepot to the fire.

  “Del.” Matt’s tone was stern. “You’ll help Isabella clear the table and wash the dishes.”

  “Yes, sir.” The little girl cast a longing glance at her father and older brother as they made their way across the room and sank down on chairs in front of the fire.

  “Benjamin, you’ll see to Blue now. And, Clement, give your brother a hand and check the mustangs before you come in.”

  “Yes, sir.” The two boys pulled on their parkas and headed outside. The hounds set up a
chorus of yapping as they joined them.

  Izzy filled a pan with hot, soapy water and began to wash. Beside her, Del dried. And sulked.

  To distract her Izzy said, “I’m making you a dress, Del. A pink one, out of some old scraps I found in the loft.”

  “Don’t know why you’d bother. I’d just as soon wear Clement’s castoffs.”

  Izzy shrugged. “I’ll go ahead and finish it. In case you ever decide you want to dress like a girl.” To change the subject she asked, “Do you know the letters of the alphabet?”

  “’Course I do.” She recited the letters in a singsong voice. “See? Pa teached me.”

  “Your pa taught you.”

  “Yes’m. That’s what I said.”

  “And he taught you well.” Izzy smiled. “Did he teach you to read and write, too?”

  “Some. I can do my name.” Eager to show off, she began spelling her name, and then Aaron’s, Benjamin’s and Clement’s. “But I’m not very good with words I haven’t seen before.”

  “Then maybe we can work on some new words.” Izzy began with simple words like cabin, table and dishes, and was surprised at how quickly the little girl was able to absorb knowledge. “How about sums, Del?”

  The little girl shook her head. “Pa explained about adding and subtracting. But I just don’t see the need for all that other stuff.”

  Benjamin and Clement, who had returned from the barn, hung their parkas by the door and joined in the conversation.

  “You mean like the multiplication tables?” Benjamin didn’t bother to hide the note of derision in his tone.

  “And division?” Clement made a face.

  Del nodded.

  “Never could figure them out. But it doesn’t matter. We’ll never need to know those things anyway,” Benjamin said importantly.

  Izzy dried her hands and hung the linen square over the back of a chair. “You won’t? Let’s see now.” She thought a moment, then said, “What if your herd numbers fifty horses, and the army says they’ll pay you a hundred dollars? Does that sound like a fair price?”

  The children turned to their father, but Matt was watching and listening with absolutely no expression. They realized they would get no help from him.

  They began arguing among themselves.

  “A hundred dollars is a lot of money,” Del said.

  “Uh-huh.” Clement was trying to count on his fingers. “Pa said mustangs were worth five dollars a head wild, and ten dollars a head when they’re saddle-broke.”

  “Then a hundred’s not enough.” Benjamin, who had done some figuring of his own, was hopelessly lost.

  Izzy nodded. “You’re right. How much more would you ask?”

  “I’d want at least…fifty dollars more,” he said with importance.

  “That’s still not enough. Let me show you something.” Izzy plucked a slate from a shelf over the fireplace and knelt on the floor. The children formed a circle around her.

  Aaron, caught up in the excitement of the discussion, joined them.

  “You have fifty mustangs, worth five dollars a head.” She wrote the numbers, then showed them how to figure. “That means your herd is worth two hundred fifty dollars, before you even break them to saddle. Now, once they’re tamed, they’re worth even more. At ten dollars a head, they’ll bring you five hundred dollars.”

  “Five hundred.” Aaron shot his father a look of amazement. “Is Isabella right, Pa? Is that what the army is paying?”

  Matt nodded.

  The children were clearly impressed with Isabella’s lesson.

  “What else can you do with those numbers?” Benjamin asked.

  “Just ask me some questions, and I’ll show you how to find the answers.”

  For nearly an hour the children shouted numbers and watched as Izzy scratched out sums on the slate. After each one, she would hand over the slate to one of the children and guide them through the maze until they were able to arrive at the same conclusion.

  Finally she glanced at Del. The little girl had rested her head on her hands. Her eyes were closed, her breathing slow and even.

  “I think we’ve done enough for tonight. Tomorrow is going to be another long day. Especially for you, Aaron.”

  The boy nodded. “Thanks, Isabella. Good night.” He tapped his little sister on the shoulder and she barely stirred. With a grin he lifted her into his arms. “Looks like I’ll have to tuck her in.” He turned to his father, who was still sitting by the fire. “’Night, Pa.”

  “Good night, son.”

  Aaron led the way up the ladder to the loft, his little sister held gently in his arms. Benjamin and Clement followed.

  As soon as the children were gone, Isabella felt the first stirrings of panic. The thought of being alone with Matthew had her heart suddenly racing, her breath coming in short bursts.

  She could feel him watching her as she reached up to the shelf to put away the slate. She had a sudden urge to smooth down her skirt, to brush her hair from her eyes. Instead, she kept her arms stiffly at her sides and turned.

  “Oh.” Finding him standing directly behind her, she jumped back a step before she composed herself and stood perfectly still.

  “That was a nice thing you did, Isabella. I don’t believe I’ve ever before seen my children so interested in learning.”

  “It wasn’t anyth—I just—” She hated the fact that she was babbling. But he was so close. And he was staring at her with such intensity she had to look away. She clasped her hands tightly in front of her, determined to clamp down on her emotions. “I enjoyed it, too. They have bright, curious minds.”

  She was startled when he touched a hand to her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. The mere touch of him had the blood pounding in her temples.

  “I don’t know what to make of you, Isabella.”

  For the space of several seconds he studied her, and she felt certain he wanted to kiss her. Just the thought of it had her limbs growing weak. And though she tried to deny it, she knew she wanted him to. Wanted desperately to feel his mouth on hers. Wanted to be crushed in his arms and kissed until she was dazed and breathless.

  Sweet salvation. Could he read it in her eyes? Could he tell, just by looking at her, that her bones were melting and her skin flushed? She actually swayed toward him. But in that same instant, he took a step back, releasing her.

  For a moment she was too stunned to react. Then, fighting a wave of bitter disappointment, she forced herself to move. Very deliberately she lifted a lantern from the shelf. Her hands, she noted, were shaking.

  She prayed her legs wouldn’t betray her as she headed for the bedroom.

  At the door she paused. “Good night, Matthew”

  He didn’t look at her. It was too painful, stirring something that was better left alone. He kept his tone deliberately bland. “Good night.”

  When the door closed behind her, he rolled a cigarette and held a match to the tip, inhaling deeply. He stared into the fire, watching the flames dance. But it was Isabella he was seeing. Sitting on the floor, surrounded by his children. Hardly more than a child herself, with her hair mussed, her cheeks flushed, her eyes dancing with some inner light. When she was with his children she forgot to be afraid. The self-consciousness slipped away. In its place was sweetness, goodness, lighthearted laughter.

  With no effort at all she had coaxed them to learn. Had understood their need to know the why and how of things. Had fed that hunger in their souls.

  Maybe he had acted in haste. Maybe she deserved another chance. Not for himself, of course. For the sake of his children.

  He tossed the last of his cigarette into the fire and strode across the room. The sudden movement reminded him that every bone in his body ached. How he yearned to sleep in his own bed.

  His frown returned. Who in hell was he kidding? Whatever damage had been done to her had left deep scars that would take a lifetime to heal over. He had neither the time nor the inclination to add to his burdens.

 
The sooner she was out of here, the sooner he could get back his life.

  He let himself out of the cabin and headed for the barn.

  Chapter Ten

  The next few days became a blur of endless work as Matt drove himself and those around him to the limit of endurance.

  While Matt and Aaron worked the herd of mustangs, Izzy and the younger children doubled up on their chores.

  The last of the crops had to be harvested and stored. Hay and wheat filled the rafters of the barn. Potatoes, turnips, apples, pears began to take up every available space in the root cellar.

  Some mornings there was a sheen of frost dusting the ground. On such days the clothesline bloomed with frozen pants and shirts, and Izzy’s fingers were stiff and sore as she struggled to remove them. Other days the sky was a clear, cloudless blue that made all the work seem easier. But even the gentlest of days now carried a bite in the wind, a harbinger of the winter looming on the horizon.

  Izzy and the children hitched old Blue to a cart and hauled logs from the woods. Late at night, after spending hours in the saddle, Matt and Aaron would chop and split the logs, stacking them against the walls of the cabin.

  In the evenings Izzy taught the children how to make candles and how to knead dough for bread. In return, they taught her how to coax a fire with a flint and how to load and shoot a rifle. These lessons, interspersed with reading, writing and sums, always seemed to bring on gales of laughter.

  “Isabella, this doesn’t make any sense.” Del stood, with hands on her hips, studying the list of words on her slate. “You said n-o-w spells now.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Then how come, when we put an s in front of it, it becomes snow? Shouldn’t it sound like s-now?” she asked, drawing out the word with a nasal twang.

  Izzy laughed. “Well, I never thought about it before. You’re right, Del. It doesn’t make any sense. But that’s the way it is.”

  “And,” the little girl went on, “how come we have no and know, write and right, see and sea?”