“That stew gonna be ready soon?” Ben asked.
“It needs to simmer another hour or so.”
Ben nodded. “Guess I’ll pack another load of burned wood.”
They had decided to build the new house in a fresh spot, but even so, they needed to remove the debris or the smell and soot would continue to plague them. Jane also thought they might still find a few usable things if they went through all the trash carefully. They had precious little money to spend on anything new.
Hays and Emma, along with Houston and Coralee, who had their own homes now, came to supper at El Regalo, the Hart family home.
“So, you went to school with Jane Haymaker?” Emma asked her husband at the Harts’ supper table.
“Yeah,” Hays said. “She’s really smart.”
“Ben’s smart, too,” Crockett said. “He would have done well in college, but Boyd’s got no money to send him to school.”
“That’s a shame,” Emma said.
Travis hadn’t come home from town yet, and Crockett figured he was making rounds of his patients.
Caro, Chisholm’s wife, looked up from her meal. “Does Jane still need clothes?”
“I don’t think she has even one dress,” Emma said. “Annie took her a skirt, but it’s pretty short. I doubt mine would fit her…”
Caro looked toward her father-in-law, GW, who sat at the head of the long table. “Papa Hart, do you think we might give her some of Mrs. Hart’s things? Your wife’s, I mean. You still have a lot of her clothing in a trunk, I’m told.”
Pa shot her a sharp glance. “I don’t think that would be a good idea, Caro.”
Crockett saw the hurt on Caro’s face and felt bad for her. Chisholm should be home soon, but without his solid presence, Caro might be feeling a little out of place. Her Mexican heritage set her apart from the rest of them, and he knew her beauty and fiery personality intimidated some of her sisters-in-law. But she was a Hart now, and Crockett felt protective of her. His father had a way of making a person feel small.
“Pa, it might not be such a bad thing,” he said. “Ma’s been gone a long time, and that stuff is going to waste. Jane could make over a few things. Really, Pa, they have nothing.”
His father hadn’t been over to the Haymakers’ place yet. He didn’t begrudge the young people going, so long as it didn’t interfere with the boys’ work on the ranch, but so far he hadn’t offered his own labor.
“I said no.”
Crockett sighed and went back to his roast beef. Some of the girls had helped prepare it. They often helped the cook out, which was probably a good thing now that they had so many people to feed. The new potatoes and fresh chard went down especially well.
He didn’t like to argue with his father, but this time he was sure Pa was just being stubborn. Ma’s things ought to go to good use, to help someone less fortunate.
He liked Jane. Always had. She had been in school with Hays until fifth grade, when Jane’s mother died. Crockett felt a special empathy for her, because he had lost his own mother, too. He had wondered how she was doing after she left school, but saw her only occasionally, at church, in town, or on the range helping her father. She had grown into an attractive, hardworking young woman. He had even entertained thoughts of courting her, but her father was a huge drawback.
Boyd was well-known in the community, and heartily disliked. Pa wouldn’t like it a bit if one of his sons courted Boyd’s daughter. That fact alone had made him dismiss the notion any time it entered his mind.
Still, Jane must trust him. Crockett felt flattered that she had told him about the money. She hadn’t even told Ben. She must think he had some good judgment. However, she had asked for Chisholm’s help through him, not his own, so maybe she didn’t so much respect him as see him as a way to get the help she needed. Crockett scowled. The more he thought about it, the more sure he was that he was just handy for her, not special. As usual, he was not the one who was noticed in this crowd.
After supper, he pushed back his chair. “Whoever made that pie, it was mighty good.”
“Why, thank you!” Annie grinned at him. “I put by an extra one for the house-raising on Saturday.”
“We gonna have dancing that night?” Hays asked.
“Prob’ly so,” Crockett replied.
“I’d better practice up a little on my fiddle.” Hays smiled at Emma. “The only bad thing about it is, I can’t dance with my wife while I’m playing.”
“I guess I’ll have to settle for your brothers and the cowpunchers for partners,” Emma said.
Crockett laughed. “Don’t worry, Emma. I’ll make sure he gets a rest from playing for at least a couple of numbers. And chances are, one or two other fellas will bring their instruments.”
“I’ll take my banjo,” Houston said.
Coralee smiled. “It’ll be nice.”
Emma laid down her fork and stood. “I wish I could give Jane a pair of my shoes, but we’re not the same size. All she has is her working boots.” She shook her head and went into the kitchen.
Crockett strolled out onto the front porch. He’d had it easy, he supposed, despite the rigors of ranch life. He and his six brothers had never had to wonder where their next pair of shoes or their next meal would come from.
His father came out, stretching. “Where you headed?”
“Just thought I’d take a look at my paint horse. I rode him pretty hard today.”
“You and the boys get those yearlings up to the north range?”
“We did.” Crockett hesitated. “Pa, we could donate some lumber for the Haymakers’ house. Make it easier for them.”
His father grunted and leaned against one of the pillars that held up the porch roof. “I don’t have a mind to do anything extra for Boyd Haymaker. The way I hear it, he’s the one that burnt the house down. And we all know he’s shiftless. Doesn’t do any good to give a man like that a boost. He’ll just waste it.”
Crockett sighed and looked off toward the hills, where the sun was setting. “I know Boyd’s lazy, Pa, and he doesn’t take care of his place like he should. But think of Jane and Ben. They’re good people. It’s not their fault their pa won’t carry his end of the load.”
His father was silent for a long moment, then scratched his chin through his short beard. “You’re probably right. Those kids are smart. I always felt bad for ’em after their ma died. She was the only good influence they had.”
“But they’ve got good neighbors. If we help them now, Jane and Ben won’t forget it.” His father stirred, and Crockett said quickly, “I’m not saying we should build them a complete new house. Just help out with a load of lumber and some elbow grease. Pa, those two could use a hand about now. Ten years from now, they might be leaders in the community.”
“That’s a stretch. But all right, I’ll pitch in. Take ’em a load of boards if you want. Tell John at the sawmill to put it on my account.”
“Thanks, Pa.”
His father inhaled deeply. “And tell the girls they can look in Victoria’s trunk for some things for the girl. I can’t feature a woman running a ranch, but I guess she’s doing a man’s work.”
“She works harder than I do.”
“That’s not sayin’ much.” His father laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “Joshin’, son. You don’t think the brides will want that stuff of your mother’s?”
“They all seemed willing to give something to Jane.”
“Well, I guess that gal needs a dress if there’s gonna be dancing Saturday.”
Crockett grinned. “That’s nice, Pa. I’ll throw in a nice shirt for Ben.”
“He might not want to wear your duds. Some of ’em are downright garish.”
“I’ll pick out one of the tamer ones. You going?”
“Oh, I suppose I’ll go pound a few nails. I don’t know as I’ll dance. I’m slowing down these days.”
Satisfied, Crockett nodded and ambled toward the corral.
Jane did her best
to keep up with Ben in peeling the logs, but her brother was faster.
“Are you sure it’ll be all right to use green wood?” She glanced toward their father, who was sitting in the shade of the barn.
“It’s better’n nothing, ain’t it?” Pa said.
“Won’t it shrink and crack when it dries?” Ben asked.
“Might split some,” Pa conceded. “Still better’n sleepin’ in a cave, eh?”
“I suppose.” Ben stood and squinted toward the road. “Looks like Crockett Hart comin’.”
Jane stood and put her hand to the small of her back. She’d be sore tomorrow from all this bending over.
“It’s him,” she said. Crockett always wore a bright-colored shirt, and often as not a neckerchief of a different color. She wasn’t sure why he wore such flamboyant clothes, but sometimes she suspected he wanted to be noticed. She had no explanation for why he’d been over to their ranch nearly every day this week.
“Hey, Crockett,” Ben called with a wave.
Crockett trotted his flashy pinto gelding up to where they were working and jumped down. “Hi, Ben. Jane.” He turned around and nodded at Pa. “Mr. Haymaker.”
“Afternoon, Davy Crockett Hart. What brings you out here today?”
“Just wanted to tell you to expect a big turnout tomorrow and a load of lumber.”
“Lumber?” Jane asked.
Crockett grinned and nodded. “My pa told me to order it from the sawmill. I’ll be here bright and early with a wagonload.”
“No need for handouts,” Boyd said, not stirring from his spot in the shade.
Jane didn’t usually agree with Pa, but this was an unusual situation. “You’re doing too much,” she insisted.
Ben put his hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Crockett.” He gave his sister a sidelong glance. “That’s what Ma taught us to say, Janie. If someone does something nice for you, don’t make a fuss. Just say thank you and let them do it.”
Crockett grinned. “You’re welcome.”
Jane shook her head, not quite able to believe all this goodwill from neighbors who rarely came by the place before this week. “I admit I wondered how much we could do with the logs we’ve hauled. It isn’t enough for a cabin.”
Crockett pursed his lips and surveyed the logs they had peeled and the pile waiting for attention.
“You’ve done a lot, but you’re right. Maybe we can use the logs for one end of the house and frame up the other. And the finished lumber will make it nice inside.”
“How much do you think we’ll get done tomorrow?” Ben asked.
Crockett shrugged. “If there are plenty of men, we can probably frame it up and get the walls covered. Might not get to the roof or set the windows in.”
“Windows?” Jane said. “We can’t afford windows, Crockett.”
“Then hang a blanket over the holes until you can. But if we don’t frame them in, you’ll never put them in later.”
“You’re probably right.” She knew Pa would never go to the bother of it.
Ben took off his hat and wiped his brow. He walked toward the well. “You all want a drink?”
“Bring me one,” Jane said. When her brother was out of earshot, she leaned toward Crockett. “We do appreciate all this. I don’t expect we’ll ever be able to repay everyone, though.”
“Nobody wants you to.” Crockett turned and leaned against the stack of logs. “Look, I remember a little bit of what this place looked like before your mama died.”
Jane’s posture stiffened. “Ben and I do our best.”
“I know you do. But you got to admit, it was homier then. Prettier. Of course, a burnt-out house is never pretty, but I think you know what I mean. It was that way at our place, too, when my mama died.”
“Yeah?” She looked doubtful.
“Oh, yeah. Just because we’ve got more ranch hands than you and a cook to keep the meals coming, doesn’t mean we didn’t miss the feminine touch. It’s hard to lose your mother, Jane. I understand that.”
She thought about his words for a moment. “Your pa didn’t take it the way mine did.”
“Maybe. He was plenty disturbed, but I guess you’re right. He’s got a different temperament than your pa.”
Ben came over with a tin cup full of water and held it out to his sister. Jane took it and tipped it up, grateful for the liquid washing her raw throat, even if it wasn’t very cold.
“You want some, Crockett?” Ben asked.
“No thanks. I just came to drop off a few more things.”
Jane started to protest, but Crockett raised both hands, palms out, to stop her. “Now, don’t go gettin’ all het up about charity and such. My brothers want to bring their instruments tomorrow, and we thought we’d have a little dancin’ after, if you folks don’t mind.”
Startled, Jane looked at Ben. How long had it been since they’d attended any event that included dancing? She was pretty sure there had never been a dance at their ranch, at least not since she could remember.
“What do you think, Ben?”
“I think that’d be real nice,” Ben replied. “Maybe we should ask Pa.”
Jane pulled in a deep breath. “No, I think we’ll just tell him—after Crockett leaves. Less chance of him saying no that way.”
“Whatever you think.” Ben looked down at his filthy clothes. “We’ll have to wash every stitch we own.”
“Well, that’s part of why I’m here,” Crockett said. “The family wanted you to have something for the dancing. And my pa sent a pair of my mother’s shoes for you, Jane, so you wouldn’t have to wear your boots. And one of Ma’s dresses. Annie said to tell you that if you need help altering it, she and Coralee could come over later.”
Jane caught her breath. “That’s…” Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sure it will be just fine, Crockett.”
He shrugged. “Maybe a little out of style. My mama’s been gone a long time.”
“All of our ma’s things burnt in the fire,” Ben said.
“I figured.” Crockett managed a smile. “Brought you something, too, Ben. A clean shirt and pants. And Austin threw in a shirt for your pa.”
“You didn’t have to,” Jane said. She had seen how even the nicest of the neighbors made it clear they were bringing food and household goods and spending a few hours working for her and Ben’s sake, not for her father.
“I know,” Crockett said, “but folks want to. It’s the same when someone’s sick or when there’s a funeral.”
Jane frowned. She hadn’t seen much of the neighborliness he was talking about.
He untied a bundle from behind his saddle and passed it to her. She couldn’t resist opening the sack—a nice, well-washed flour sack she could use to make towels from—and peeking inside. Folds of blue cotton and some kind of shiny green material lay within.
“I’m sure this is more than you oughta do,” she said. “But thank you. And tell the ladies they don’t need to stir themselves. If the dress doesn’t fit, I can fix it.”
Crockett smiled, a nice, warm smile. “I’ll do that. But they’re all coming tomorrow. Except maybe Emma. If she feels poorly, she’ll stay home.”
“She ought to,” Jane said. “I felt bad that she rode all the way over here the other day in the wagon. Tell her and the others we—” She glanced at Ben. “Well, we appreciate it.”
“Yeah.” Ben nodded.
“I will. Oh, Jane, there’s one more thing.” Crockett walked around his horse and worked open the other saddlebag. He came back with a book in his hands. “If you’ve a mind to, I’d like to lend you this. It was my mama’s small Bible. Pa has a big one that he takes to church, but Ma liked this one because it was smaller and easy to carry around. And it was hers.”
Jane took the volume. The leather cover was worn on the corners, and the edges of the pages showed water stains. She had never seen a Bible so small.
“It’s a little banged up,” Crockett said apologetically. “I take it with me sometimes wh
en I’m going on roundup or up in the hills. Anytime a new book came into the house, my ma would read it. She read lots of things out loud to us boys when we were young. But the Bible was always her favorite.”
Jane nodded. “I recall she had a beautiful voice. I used to listen to her in church, when we’d sing the hymns.”
“I haven’t seen you at church lately.”
She swallowed hard.
“We’re usually too busy,” Ben said. “This ranch is tough—it gets away from you.”
“I know what you mean,” Crockett said.
“Janie,” Boyd yelled from his nest near the barn.
“Yeah, Pa?” she called back.
“What you jawin’ about? Get something on for dinner. I’m right hungry.”
“Sure thing.” She threw Crockett a rueful look. “Thanks. I guess we’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Right.” He swung into the saddle and rode away.
Chapter Four
Crockett let his paint out into the pasture when he got home, and he took a second look at the horses inside the fence. Chisholm’s favorite red roan was grazing along with a half dozen others. His brother was home from his Ranger duties. Quickly, Crockett stowed his gear and strode to the house. Chisholm and his wife, Caro, were drinking coffee at the table with Pa and Hays.
“Hey!” Chisholm stood, stretching out his full six-foot-three height, tall like all of the brothers and their father.
Crockett slapped him on the shoulder. “Welcome home! Everything go all right?”
“Sort of. We got things settled down, finally. These range fights are never good.”
Crockett nodded. “At least you’re in one piece.”
“Amen,” Caro said softly.
Perla came through from the kitchen with a coffeepot in one hand and a basket of molasses cookies in the other. “Thought I heard a new arrival. Coffee, Crockett?”
Seven Brides for Seven Texans Romance Collection Page 34