Sixty Acres and a Bride

by Regina Jennings

  “You’re not going anywhere in the rain, are you? But next time you go to the farm, bring her back for supper. We’ll put her up for the night, and Jake can take her home the next morning.” Eliza clapped her hands together. “I have an even better idea. I’m still short some baby linens. Maybe we could go to Lockhart, the three of us, and finish putting the nursery together. It’s getting close, Rosa, and there’s so much to do. I can’t imagine where I’d be without your help.”

  Weston rocked back on his heels. His sister did have her moments.

  25

  I’M ABOUT OUT OF BOOTLACES,�� Eliza complained several days later as she stretched on her bed. “If my ankles get any thicker, I’ll have to wear Jake’s boots.”

  “At least the weather has broken. It’s getting cooler.” Rosa folded yet another baby blanket crocheted by the loving ladies of Prairie Lea.

  “But the swelling is here to stay.”

  “You could go barefoot.”

  Eliza paused only a moment before ripping the boots off and throwing them across her bedroom. “That’s the most practical suggestion I’ve heard this whole pregnancy. You should be a midwife.”

  Rosa grinned. Thank goodness for Eliza. Rosa needed someone to distract her from the charged atmosphere with Weston.

  She blanched when she heard footsteps at the door, but it was only Octavia.

  “Miss Eliza, Miss Rosa, your Aunt Louise is in the parlor.”

  And she wasn’t alone. Beaming at her side stood the balding Mr. Bradford, looking uncomfortable without a countertop to hide behind. “Hello, ladies, how are you?” His wheezy chuckle repeated itself like a crow caw as he shuffled around the room in his eagerness to properly greet the younger women while not leaving Louise’s side.

  Louise kissed both girls and then frowned. “Weston and Jake aren’t here?”

  “No, ma’am. They’re out. I’m not sure what pasture they’re in today.”

  “That’s too bad. I’d hoped your husbands would be with you.” She gave Rosa a compassionate smile. Mr. Bradford patted her hand timidly, his own bottom lip drooping in sympathy. “We’ve come with some stupendous news.”

  Eliza’s eyes danced, and she clapped her hands together. “Do tell.”

  Louise beamed at Mr. Bradford, who cleared his throat and began, “You see, I have asked Louise, after knowing and admiring her for years, for her hand in holy matrimony, and she has consented.”

  Eliza’s squeals were heartfelt. Rosa’s were not. If tears appeared, Rosa hoped they’d be mistaken for tears of happiness, for she did wish her former mother-in-law happiness, but she was certain there was none for her in their tidings.

  Congratulations were still flying when Weston stepped in. Rosa’s heart hopped like a jumping bean when he looked at her, but Louise intervened, smiling at him expectantly.

  “Aunt Louise, Deacon . . . ah, may I guess what this call is about?”

  Louise pinched his cheek like the dark-haired five-year-old boy he used to be. “We’re glad to see you. It wouldn’t be the same without your blessing.” And then seeing a man over his shoulder, she called, “Mr. Mohle, is that you hiding back there? What are you doing?”

  The man stepped into the room and spoke around his plug of tobacco. “Wes has a carpentry job for me, but congratulations just the same. I’ll be sure and tell the missus.”

  “Yes, congratulations!” Weston added. “But if you’ll excuse me, please, Deacon, Aunt Louise, I need to get him started on this job. Don’t leave without telling Jake. He’s right behind me.”

  Weston looked Rosa over like he was taking inventory and then led Mr. Mohle out of the room.

  “So when’s the date?” Eliza was making up for Rosa’s silence.

  Louise reached to take Rosa’s arm. “I don’t want to shock you, but if Rosa approves, we’ll tie the knot this Saturday.”

  “Saturday?” Rosa gasped.

  But Eliza giggled. “This family sure doesn’t hold to long engagements.”

  “You’re going to be all right without me, Rosa. Aren’t you? Deacon will take me to San Antonio for our honeymoon, but we’ll be gone only a couple of weeks. When we return, he’s going to begin rebuilding his store. We’ll want to get everything done by Christmas.”

  “I think it’s marvelous,” said Eliza. “Every day you wait is one less day together. Besides, I could drop this colt at any time, and I do want to go to the ceremony.”

  “Eliza!” Louise scolded. “I’m sorry, Deacon. This girl has spent too much time with her aunt Mary.”

  “Hello there, what’s this about?”

  As they shared the news with Jake, Rosa considered her options.

  Saturday. She bit her lip. Louise had found a new guardian and would follow him devoutly, but what would Rosa do? Could she live there alone with Jay Tillerton seething the next field over? Before she could think it through, one alternative was taken forever off the table.

  Adjusting his suspenders, Jake took the floor just as Weston reentered. “Aunt Louise, Weston, there’s a subject I’ve been meaning to broach. Would there be any objection to me and Eliza purchasing Louise’s place? I know I don’t have the family name, but we’re family, sure enough. I’ve been thinking about getting our own place now that the young’un is coming.”

  The walls were closing in on Rosa, but no one could see them snuffing out her hopes, one by one. Instead, hearty congratulations flew from all sides. Eliza wrapped both arms around her scruffy husband’s neck while he shook hands with Louise, sealing the deal. Before Rosa could join the obligated celebration, Louise brought it to a halt.

  “Wait! What was I thinking? I can’t say yes without Rosa’s permission. The farm belongs to her, as well.”

  A split second of silence ensued as all eyes fell on her. Surely she looked odd with her olive skin turned a sickly green. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat.

  “Of course it’s all right.” Eliza laughed and smothered Rosa in a hug. “We’ll give Rosa her share of the money, and she and Wes can have this big house all to themselves.”

  Rosa watched their faces—eyes bright, smiles wide, not a care in the world. How could she possibly object in the face of their happiness? She tried to hide her despair, but Weston didn’t look fooled. He was working his way to her when there was a mighty crash from above.

  “Land sakes alive!” Louise crouched down and covered her head. “What was that?”

  Weston didn’t flinch. “Mr. Mohle.”

  “What’s he doing up there?” Another crash caused the picture frames on the wall to rattle.

  “Updating some furniture.”

  “You hired Mr. Mohle to decorate?” Eliza was incredulous.

  Scraping sounds filled the room as something was dragged across the second story floor.

  “No, he’s fixing my bed.” Wes scratched the back of his neck. “He’s taking off the big canopy.”

  “The four-poster bed? Have you lost your mind? Why would you do that?” yelled his sister above the din.

  “I decided I don’t want it hanging over me anymore.”

  Louise laughed. “You surprise me, nephew. I had no idea you got uneasy about such things—but I suppose it isn’t that uncommon. Rosa is scared to death of being trapped, too.”

  Rosa could feel her face go from green to red.

  “I guess I’m changing, Aunt Louise, and this room is starting to feel mighty tight, too. It might be time for me to get some air.”

  “Well, give me a kiss and get back to work, then. We’ll look for you on Saturday.”

  “Yes, ma’am. With bells on.”

  Getting onto the roof wasn’t difficult. The third-story ballroom had large windows in its gables that practically begged Rosa to climb out. Keeping her feet flat on the roof, she sat and hugged her knees to her chest. No one would think to look for her up there.

  Although the Englands decided not to move until after the baby came, Eliza’s excitement, packing, and pl
anning strained Rosa’s ability to pretend she supported the decision. Her tender emotions required some sanctuary from the ruthless joy downstairs.

  From her perch she could see much of the Garner ranch. Directly beneath her, Octavia was taking cuttings from Eliza’s herb garden while Eliza sat in the shade and mopped her brow. Far in the east pasture she could make out four horsemen—Willie, Red, Bailey, and Weston, no doubt—barely visible above the cattle they were riding among.

  Jake had left already. Early that morning he’d taken the wagon to Louise’s to help her clear out the house. Louise wanted some of the furniture moved to Mr. Bradford’s and some would remain for Eliza. They had offered to give Rosa first choice, but what would she do with the furniture? She’d lived there only three months. Besides, she had no house to furnish anyway. Oddly enough, Jake didn’t offer to take her with him. He was probably afraid she’d change her mind—as if she’d agreed in the first place.

  But no one cared. They had their plans and were pursuing them blissfully. Rosa had to put the feelings of abandonment and hurt behind her and make arrangements of her own. Being sad wasn’t going to change anything.

  So what to do?

  She fingered the black trim along the hem of her skirt. If the Englands bought the land, she could pay Weston off with some left over, but not enough for a house. Heat curled off the shingles in long waves. She couldn’t sit up there much longer. She had to think.

  According to Molly, Rosa could let a room at a boardinghouse in Lockhart, but the only person who might hire her would be Mr. Bradford. His store would be in Prairie Lea by Christmas. Moving in with Louise and Mr. Bradford remained her best option, but moving in with Louise didn’t hold the charm it once had.

  It’d be difficult to leave the spacious house warming her backside at that moment. She’d grown fond of Palmetto. The wide halls, ornate banisters, and six-paneled doors didn’t intimidate her anymore. And while they could use more color, she’d grown to appreciate the textures of the rugs, wallpaper, and draperies. Even the stable held a place in her heart, and she hated to give up the freedom she had via Smokey.

  Squint as she might, the cowboys were no longer visible, having no doubt sought shelter under the leafy trees surrounding the creek. They must be hunkering down for dinner. The noonday sun blazed above her, doing its best to leave an impression that would last through autumn.

  Could she stay here? Without Jake and Eliza’s presence, it’d be thorny. Since their kiss, Weston and she hadn’t been alone together, but his bedroom renovations didn’t bode well. Would he respect her wishes and keep his distance, or would he get skittish again and leave her altogether?

  She bit her lip. Tricky. When Jake went to the bank to get his loan, he would pay off Weston’s note and then return the difference to Louise and to her. She wouldn’t owe Weston anything. Yet, just because her obligation was cleared, that didn’t mean she couldn’t be profitable to him. Regardless of where she lived, she intended to earn her keep. Would he let her work for her room and board?

  With Eliza gone, Octavia would need help with the housekeeping and laundry. Feeding those cowboys was a full-time job. She’d even move out to Octavia’s cabin if there was room.

  She tapped her toes against the shingles. This plan could work. Weston was a fair and generous employer. She’d still live close to Mary and Eliza without crowding Louise. She wouldn’t be a burden to anyone.

  Satisfied that she’d found a solution, Rosa edged down to the windowsill and climbed inside. All she had to do was convince Weston that she could earn her keep. That sounded a lot easier than turning a profit on the ranch.

  Dinner was ready and waiting on her.

  “This child is going roly-poly today,” Eliza exclaimed at the end of the meal as her stomach lurched again, making her napkin bounce.

  “He or she is getting anxious to meet us,” Rosa said.

  “I’m anxious to stop carrying him around. I’m tuckered out.”

  “Take a nap if you feel like it. I thought I’d help Octavia in the kitchen this afternoon. I won’t be bored.”

  “If you’re sure.” Eliza pushed herself away from the table with an effort and waddled to her room.

  By midafternoon, Rosa’s plans for the evening meal were well underway. Octavia already had a chicken butchered, so she whipped up some mole sauce for variety. She didn’t have any masa prepared, so she settled on flour tortillas and a mandatory pot of beans.

  When the tortillas were done and the beans were simmering, she took out toward the garden. First she inspected Eliza’s herb garden. She plucked a fat caterpillar off a stalk and squished it under her boot. The garden looked well kept but would need tending once Eliza was gone. Next to the herb garden sat the large vegetable patch cultivated for consumption by the human and animal occupants of Palmetto. Could she handle a plot that size?

  The garden lay fallow after the summer harvest, but with early plowing she probably had time to get the seeds sown by herself.

  Rosa’s mind raced as she considered the possibilities. Now that she could drive Smokey, maybe she could even plow by herself. She fairly ran to the barn to look over the plow. Was it too heavy for her?

  Weston didn’t expect to run into Rosa in the barn, but there she stood in her new town-bought clothes, messing with a plow. Her goldenrod dress had black piping that ran from her shoulders to her waist, just in case he didn’t notice her curves. Much too pretty to be fiddling around in a barn.

  Her large sleeves swayed as she tried to drive the plow blade into the hard-packed earth of the barn floor. He didn’t like the looks of this.

  “The kitchen smells delicious.” He approached warily, afraid she might bolt again. “Octavia says we have you to thank for that.”

  Her black eyes followed every step he made toward her. “Thank you. I miss cooking. I hope Octavia doesn’t mind if I do it more.”

  “It’s your kitchen, but you might have to prove yourself before she trusts you. What are you doing out here? Are you looking for something?” Wes double-checked one of the straps for wear.

  “No. I’m planning the garden. I’d love to put some different herbs and peppers out. And the big garden—I think I could plow it. This isn’t that heavy.”

  The look he gave her should’ve made the words unnecessary, but he said them anyway. “You’re not plowing like a field hand. Not on my property.”

  “Weston, things have changed. Your note is paid. I don’t owe you anymore. We don’t have to be stuck in this sham—”

  “It’s not a sham to me,” he gritted through clenched teeth.

  “You’ve made yourself clear on that, and I’ll honor your wishes. If getting an annulment is against your principles, we can leave things like they are on paper, but our contract is over. I paid you back. We can’t call this a marriage, when neither of us had a choice.”

  “But if this is where we find ourselves, shouldn’t we make the best of it?”

  She winced before he realized what he’d said.

  “Someday you’ll regret you settled. I’d like to negotiate a new contract now. You paid for sixty acres and a bride, and you got neither, so I’m giving you a refund.” She dug the plow blade further into the ground. “But what about your end? Remember that night we met? You asked me to only work on Garner land, so I’m coming to you first. Will you hire me, or do I need to find another employer?”

  Was that a threat? He knew she wanted nothing to do with him, but surely she wouldn’t run to complete strangers. Why was she so desperate to get away? But if she wanted to talk business, he welcomed the familiar language. About time he had an advantage.

  “You aren’t plowing. What else can you offer?”

  Her eyes darted about. She looked worried. “I’ll do all the housework, mending, and help Octavia in the kitchen.”

  He unbuttoned his pocket and found a peppermint while he pretended to consider her answer.

  “Eliza will need help for the next month or so, but after that? I
won’t dirty the house much if I live alone.”

  She leaned hard against the plow. “I can work outside. You saw me shearing. And I’m strong. I’ll work anywhere. I’m even getting good on Smokey. Maybe you could teach me—” A wind gust caught her skirt, forcing her to release the plow to smooth it.

  “Why would I hire a woman to do a man’s job? Think of something else. What did the women in Ciauhtlaz do?”

  “They spent most of their time taking care of their children.” Her hand covered her mouth, but it was too late.

  Children. Somehow in the flurry of their marriage, Weston had overlooked the possibility of a family. He’d only thought about protecting her and her reputation, but now as she moved further and further from his grasp, he realized that he might also be burying the chance of carrying on the Garner name. For all his protestations to God about maintaining bachelorhood, he’d never relinquished his dream of having children.

  Rosa came to stand by him and watched a sparrow hop along the fence rail. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “It’s all right.” He shoved his fists deep into his pockets.

  “You want children?”

  His advantage had vanished. He smiled at the carefree bird even though his heart was breaking. “Very much.”

  “You’d make a wonderful father.”

  He looked deeply into her eyes and was disappointed by what he saw there: compassion and concern, but a solid determination to remain distant, as well.

  He shook his head to clear the thoughts whirling inside. “I give up. You want to renegotiate? Here are your choices: We can have a sterile, distant relationship. You’ve taken my name and are my wife, but we’ll live as strangers, or you can throw your lot in with mine.”

  He stepped closer and bent, trying to get a glimpse of her downturned face. “Maybe together we can be brave, Rosa. We’ll let loose of the past and see where we land, but if we do, this talk of leaving must end. We can’t build trust while you have one foot out the door. Sure, I have more than you, and I intend to give you so much you won’t ever be able to buy your freedom. For better or worse. Can you live with that?”