The Homesteader's Sweetheart

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The Homesteader's Sweetheart Page 12

by Lacy Williams


  “But…I’m not…I don’t think we could be anything more than friends.”

  Walt didn’t seem disappointed by this, only kept smiling as he watched the horse round the corral, muscles rippling in the fading sunlight.

  Sam grunted and swung around. “I’m still hungry. That cold chicken you brought over for supper wasn’t enough. Maybe there’s something else in the cabinets.”

  Penny shook her head and sighed as her brother stomped toward the house. The supper she’d brought over from the Whites’ place had been plenty and she knew it. She guessed Sam just wanted an excuse to be by himself.

  “I’d hoped…”

  “Mmm?” Walt urged her.

  “Well, I’d hoped that being out here would settle Sam a little. I couldn’t say whether Father has truly spoiled him or not, but I know being with you and Gran are some of the best memories of my life.”

  As she said it, she realized it was true. She’d been happy at her gran’s knee, doing simple things like sewing curtains or mending her grandfather’s shirts, and helping him with the horses.

  But she was happy back in Calvin, too. She loved attending ladies’ socials with her mother and visiting with friends and having the opportunity to wear her fine dresses. There was nothing quite like getting dolled up for an event to make a girl feel beautiful.

  Thankfully, her grandfather didn’t press her, just stood at her elbow in silence. Uncomfortable with the turmoil of her thoughts, Penny changed the subject. “I noticed the barn roof looks much better.”

  “Yep. That Max is awful handy. Shouldn’t leak a bit now.”

  “Is Sam behaving himself?” she parroted her grandfather’s earlier question, curious to know if her brother was causing trouble.

  “Sure is. Jonas couldn’t have picked a better one of his boys to send. Maxwell is quiet, won’t push Sam if he don’t want to talk. But Max is also steady and a good example. Jonas has done well with him.”

  Penny wondered what her grandfather’s cryptic words meant. Jonas had done what for Maxwell? Given him a home? Or more? She huffed as she realized her thoughts had tracked right back to the homesteader. She wouldn’t think of him anymore tonight.

  As Penny watched the horse round the corral once more, her hands twitched on the railing. What she’d really like to do was take an evening ride—feel the wind against her cheeks and keep remembering earlier times here with her gran.

  “You want to give him a try? Reckon he wouldn’t mind if you took him out for a ride.”

  How had he guessed her thoughts? “I shouldn’t. It’s getting dark.”

  “Sure you should. You’d both enjoy a little fresh air. Sam and I will be here when you get back. I’ll help ya saddle up.”

  And that was that.

  Riding through her grandfather’s pastures as the sun set red over the mountains, Penny was careful to keep within sight of the house. She would never live it down if she managed to get lost in the dark.

  Out here, there was a certain freedom that she didn’t have back in Calvin…and she almost thought she could feel her gran smiling down on her from above.

  But her problems back in Calvin hadn’t been resolved, only delayed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Penny was conscious of two things during Sunday morning services at the little Bear Creek church. One was the finished letter she’d tucked into the pocket of her grandmother’s simple calico dress. The other was the man beside her.

  From his broad shoulders filling out the dark jacket of his Sunday suit, to the slightly off-key baritone, after three days of trying, she still couldn’t ignore Jonas. Especially not when she’d ended up wedged next to him in the pew, Breanna on her other side.

  This morning she’d felt much more comfortable coming to services. She hadn’t noticed any stares from other people and several folks had greeted her warmly as she entered the sanctuary with her grandfather and Sam, making her feel welcome and not so out of place, even though she still wore one of her grandmother’s nicer but simple dresses. Today it didn’t bother her.

  And she couldn’t help noticing how beautiful the congregational singing was, even though not all of the voices carried perfect pitch. Ever since the midweek ride she’d taken on her grandfather’s stallion, she’d been noticing little things more. Like the exuberant joy with which the boys consumed their meals. What she’d taken for chaos those first couple of days was actually them enjoying the good fare. Breanna’s constant cheerful state was another thing to admire.

  And it seemed she couldn’t turn around without noticing Jonas and her continued awareness of him.

  She ducked past Jonas as soon as the last “amen” was said, angling to meet up with the mercantile owner’s wife in the milling crowd. She’d met the woman last week at the picnic and learned she was also the postmistress for Bear Creek.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Peterson.”

  “Hello, dear. It’s nice to see you again. Has anyone told you about the barn raising planned for two weeks from now at the Smiths’ place? They’re newlyweds,” Mrs. Peterson confided, voice lowered. “Moved out here from back East not too long ago and haven’t got one put up yet. Men’ll be building and us womenfolk are providin’ the noon meal.”

  “Oh,” Penny hedged. “I’m not much of a cook.”

  “That’s all right. Just bring yourself. And that lot of boys, if you can get them to come. Most times they’re too busy to come to community events.”

  That didn’t surprise Penny. Jonas was committed to making his homestead profitable, taking care of the children. But maybe he needed an event like this to remind him he wasn’t alone out here. Maybe she could talk to some folks about raising money for Breanna—without Jonas knowing, of course. Jonas was a proud man, and she didn’t want to offend him if he didn’t want folks to know he needed money.

  “Mrs. Peterson, I was wondering if you could post this letter for me. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it back to town tomorrow, and it’d be a great favor to me.”

  “Oh, certainly, dear.” She glanced down at the envelope. “Miss Millie Broadhurst, in Philadelphia. Is that a friend of yours, dear?”

  Penny glanced over her shoulder. Had Jonas heard? Thankfully he was deep in conversation with another man across the sanctuary.

  “Miss Penny!”

  Breanna ran up to the two women, interrupting anything else that Penny might’ve told Mrs. Peterson about the letter.

  “Pa says we can’t stay long because there’s a storm comin’ in,” the girl reported and then was off again, chasing and calling after one of her brothers.

  Mrs. Peterson’s gaze followed the brown braid Penny had put in just this morning. “She’s a sweet girl. My Katie, my youngest, is that age.” She shook her head. “Gets into everything. Follows her older sister into trouble.”

  Penny agreed. “Yes, Breanna can be a handful, but all of her brothers dote on her. But she needs…” New dresses. And while doing the wash, Penny had noticed how worn some of the boys’ shirts were as well.

  “I don’t suppose…” Penny leaned close to the older woman and asked for another favor. This time a big one.

  * * *

  “I’m coming!”

  Jonas worked to keep the annoyance off his face as he turned toward the sound of boots hurrying along Bear Creek’s wooden boardwalk along Main Street.

  Penny approached, face lit up from within, clutching a paper-wrapped package to her chest. Wrapping he recognized from the mercantile. She’d been shopping while he waited, while the storm clouds grew darker?

  He didn’t vent his irritation, didn’t say anything as he boosted her up onto the bench seat. Gritted his teeth as he walked around behind the wagon and vaulted onto the seat on his side without even using the wheel for leverage.

  “Where is everyone?” she asked, glancing around and finally realizing that they were alone, save Oscar, who held his prancing mount in place a few paces away.

  “They all doubled up to hurry home. Oscar
waited,” he nodded to his son as he snapped the reins, putting the horses in motion. “The others didn’t want to get wet.”

  Penny tilted her chin up to the cloud-filled sky, giving him an open view of her delicate features in his peripheral vision. “Oh, dear,” she half sighed. “I did hurry. I’m sorry.”

  He stared at a point just over the horses’ ears. Was two weeks too long for her to go without having a new gown or some other frippery? Had she asked the Petersons to open their store for her just so she could have her fine things?

  It shouldn’t bother him. He knew she liked fine things, pretty things. Knew she would never settle for someone poor. Someone like him.

  For a moment when he’d held her in his arms after he’d scooped her out of the corral, he’d thought they’d connected. There had been something on her face, some emotion he couldn’t name had flashed across her expressive features and his heart had pounded even harder than when he’d seen her almost get trampled on by Oscar’s filly.

  And then in the last three days, she’d seemed to pull away. Not quite avoiding him but not addressing him with the open warmth he’d come to expect. He didn’t know what to make of it. Maybe he’d done something to offend her, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what.

  “I’ll be even sorrier if we get soaked,” she muttered.

  Jonas didn’t reply as they left the town behind and moved directly toward the building storm. He’d secured most of the animals before hitching up the wagon this morning, but the cattle he planned to take to Cheyenne tomorrow were still penned out in the open. He prayed there wouldn’t be much lightning or thunder with this storm, and the animals would ride it out without kicking up a fuss.

  “Miss Penny, you steered me wrong.”

  Jonas’s head came up at Oscar’s frustrated statement. His son had brought his horse right next to the wagon on Penny’s side.

  “What do you mean?” Penny smoothed her skirt and addressed the boy.

  “You told me to woo Sally, and I tried but she didn’t take to it.”

  “You told him to what?” The words were out before Jonas could temper his frustration.

  “What did you do?” Penny asked, ignoring Jonas’s question with her face still turned to Oscar.

  “I told her she looked real pretty, just like you said.”

  “I did say he should compliment her. Women like compliments,” Penny said to Jonas with a quick glance. “What else?” she asked the teen.

  “Well, I asked her about her family, like you said. She has an older sister, Sarah, who’s away training to become a teacher and I asked how she was doing and was she well and did she like the schooling and all of a sudden Sally jest turned real red in the face and walked away. I tried to ask her what was wrong but she jest ignored me.” His son shrugged, the gesture seeming to convey his confusion.

  Jonas couldn’t help his son—he had no idea what had gone wrong for the boy, either.

  “Oh,” Penny said, lips clamped together as if she was holding back laughter. “Oh, my.”

  “What? Why didn’t she take to my wooing?”

  Penny cleared her throat once. And again. Then when she could apparently speak without her mirth showing she said, “By asking all those questions about her sister, Miss Sally might’ve thought you…um…fancied her sister.”

  “Fancied? Sarah Hansen?” The incredulity in Oscar’s voice made it evident that thought hadn’t crossed his mind whatsoever. “Sarah’s no fun at all. Before she left home all she did was nag the other kids. ‘Don’t horse around.’ ‘You’re yelling too loud.’ She’s awful—”

  “Oscar,” Jonas warned. He’d taught his son better than to talk badly about a lady, no matter if he did think all those things about her.

  Penny shrugged, her arm brushing against Jonas’s. “I’m just letting you know what I suspect happened. If you asked all those questions about her sister, Miss Sally might’ve thought you were more interested in her sister than you were interested in her. What do you usually talk to Sally about?”

  A flush rose up Oscar’s neck. “We don’t rightly talk much. I wanted her to know I liked her…um…fancied her,” Oscar looked uncomfortable using Penny’s proper word, “so last week I jest, well, kissed her so she’d know how I felt. But you said I shouldn’t have done that.”

  A slight tsking sound emerged from the woman next to Jonas. Her lips were pinched together again.

  “So she really has no idea what your intentions are then?”

  The boy shrugged.

  She sighed and went on, “The correct way to catch a lady’s attention is first with a gentle compliment. Let’s practice a bit. Here, Jonas, you can help us. For instance, if you wanted to show your admiration for me, you might remark on my appearance.”

  Instant heat radiated up Jonas’s neck and bled into his face. He hoped the shadow from his hatbrim was enough to keep her from noticing. He swallowed, but all the moisture in his whole body seemed to have evaporated, leaving him dry mouthed. She wanted him to compliment her, but he hadn’t any idea how to go about it.

  “Go ahead,” Penny urged.

  Oscar looked at him with raised brows, expecting…what? A smooth-tongued example?

  Jonas cleared his throat, but it didn’t help much. His voice sounded hoarse when he dutifully said, “Miss Castlerock, you look…” more beautiful than a summer sunrise over the mountains. He couldn’t say the words. “…very nice in your Sunday dress this morning.”

  Her eyebrows knit together and then smoothed. “Thank you.” She offered him such a genuine smile that he felt it all the way to the toes of his boots.

  “And then you would continue to make conversation. Perhaps ask about my family…”

  Hadn’t he just seen Walt for himself, before and during Sunday service? Should he ask about her parents, then? Afraid he would say something he shouldn’t, Jonas beseeched her for more guidance with a half-panicked glance.

  “Honestly,” she huffed under her breath. “It’s as if you’ve never spoken to a woman of courting age.”

  “I told you before, I can’t just walk into the mercantile and pick a bride,” he muttered, tugging on the collar of his shirt that was suddenly choking him.

  “Well, I don’t see why you have to make it so difficult,” she sniped right back at him. “It’s not as if I’m an ogre.”

  Her silly comment struck him, and he couldn’t help the half smile that dragged a corner of his mouth upward. She responded with a warm smile of her own, one he hadn’t seen in a couple of days.

  “If you prefer to ask about my interests, I enjoy—”

  “Pretty dresses and frilly hats,” he finished quickly.

  She looked at him sideways. “I was going to say painting. I left my oils at home in Calvin, but I’ve been sketching a bit in the evenings. When I have time,” she amended.

  “I remember you used to set up an easel in the courtyard back in Philadelphia.” The memory came upon him quickly, and he’d said the words before he really thought about them—he hadn’t wanted her to know how closely he’d watched back then.

  “You remember that?” she asked, tilting her head to one side and appraising him with those blue, blue eyes.

  “I—guess so,” he choked. Was that an appropriate response?

  The moment seemed to stretch and Jonas’s breath caught in his chest until Oscar interrupted them, still looking perplexed. “But how do I fix things with Sally? I really like…um, fancy her, you know.”

  The teen looked to Jonas, but Jonas didn’t know what to tell him. “You know just as much about women as I do.”

  “Miss Penny, can you tell me what to do?”

  She hesitated, glancing at Jonas, but he gestured for her to carry on. As if he could stop the flow of advice from his pretty neighbor. “Just be honest with her. Tell her that you want to get to know her better and that’s why you were asking questions about her sister.”

  “But what if she don’t believe me? Should I corner he
r and kiss her again?”

  “No!” Exasperation rang in her voice. “You can’t just go around stealing kisses, Oscar. If the girl likes you—really likes you—you’ll know it just by her actions. Maybe she’ll invite you to Sunday dinner with her folks, or maybe she’ll allow you to hold her hand. But kisses aren’t to be taken lightly, and they aren’t ever to be stolen.”

  “All right.” Forehead wrinkled in thought, Jonas’s son urged his mount a little ahead. Aware that they were now alone, Jonas shifted on the seat.

  Suddenly, as if they’d crossed an invisible line, a wave of cooler air washed over them, and Penny shivered.

  Jonas turned to grab the slicker he’d tucked behind the bench seat this morning and pushed it into Penny’s hands. “Rain won’t be far behind.”

  She tried to hand it back to him. “What about you? What will you do?”

  He shrugged. “One of us is getting wet. Might as well be me.”

  “Are you certain?” Her question irritated him. He might not know much about women, but did she think him so uncouth that he wouldn’t offer her a simple courtesy?

  He didn’t know the answer, but was gratified when she shrugged into the coat. The shoulders were too big for her, and it hung about her like an oversize blanket, but perhaps she would stay somewhat dry.

  They weren’t far from the homestead. He could see the stand of trees that marked the edge of his property, but they weren’t close enough to outrun the rain. The first drops plopped against his hat and shoulders.

  Penny cried out as the sprinkles turned to torrents, and Jonas snapped the reins to make the horses move faster, though they already strained in their traces. He hunched his shoulders and kept his hat tipped down to try and keep the worst of the rain from his head.

  They were nearing the house when a shout brought Jonas’s head up. Matty galloped toward them, waving his arms and yelling, though Jonas couldn’t make out his words. Jonas reined in the horses.

  “Pa!” the boy gasped as he got close and brought his heaving mount next to the wagon. “The cattle broke out of the corral! They’re stampedin’ toward the McCoys’ place. Th’ other boys already went after them—”

 

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