“Did they move? Is she alright?” he asked. He couldn’t imagine the Becks moving out of town. If something had happened to Clementine, he didn’t know what he would do.
“No, they didn’t move. They still live in the house on the other end of the farm, near the creek. They can’t move much with Stanley.”
His heart slowed down when he heard Clementine was still in town. “Did she ever marry?”
Martha looked at him with a peculiar expression on her face. “No,” she finally said. “She was courted by men from both Glenda and Ft. Bridger. There was a Cavalry officer that really fancied her. And who could blame him. That dark raven hair and those sparkly blue eyes. Yes,” his aunt said thoughtfully, “many of us thought she would be married by now. Nothing really came from it. She doesn’t speak about it at all.” His aunt continued, “And now she is a spinster. Sitting in that house wasting away; taking care of her parents.” Martha could add a flare of drama to just about anything.
“Twenty-five is not a spinster,” Hank said, defending the woman he loved. “Maybe he wasn’t the right one.”
“Maybe,” his aunt smiled slyly. “I just don’t think she belongs in that house just waiting on her parents.”
Of course, she wasn’t meant to be there, Hank thought. She was meant to be with him.
But he quickly banished the thought away. He didn’t even have a right to think that. Especially after the way he had left her waiting, as though she meant nothing to him. He wasn’t sure if she would ever forgive him, even after she heard the reason that he wasn’t there for her.
“Are they alright? Financially, I mean?” he asked, though it was none of his business.
“Stanley’s care is very dear indeed. Clementine sews in the evenings and helps around the ranch. Paps made sure the house and land were theirs after Stanley’s accident, so they don’t have to worry about that expense.”
“But now that you are back,” Martha told him. “Perhaps you can get her to come out more. Introduce her to the new hands in the stable.”
The thought of another man even looking at her made his blood boil. Irrational, yes. He was still conflicted about any claim he might have from their childhood promise. Hank lifted his hands in mock surrender. “I’ve not seen or spoken to her in years. She probably doesn’t even remember me.”
“Well you can find out on Sunday.”
Hank paused. “Sunday?”
“Every Sunday, after church, Clementine, her mother and I fix a huge dinner for all the ranch hands. It’s a family meal. You’ll be there. This way you can meet everyone and get integrated again on the farm.”
He could feel his stomach clench with anxiety. Not wanting her to continue, he tried to change the subject.
“Did you talk to Paps about possible work?” Hank forgot to bring it up on the ride home.
“Yes, I did. He said to stop over there and talk to Martin tomorrow. He is the one in charge of the stables now.”
When they used to live here, his father was a groomer and farrier for the stables. When Hank would go and visit him, his father let him feed and groom the horses. It was one of his favorite things to do. But then the railroad expanded, and his father moved everyone to Santa Fe.
“Tonight, you should rest. It was a long journey for you. I’ve made some chicken and vegetables for you and Abigail, that I’ve left for whenever you two are ready to eat.”
“You aren’t eating supper?” Hank asked.
Martha shook her head. “No; I have to help Eva with Rosalie’s wedding dress. Then we are going to start prepping for the meal on Sunday. It shouldn’t take too long.”
“I should get going,” she said, with a wave. “The rest of the day will be very busy indeed.”
“Aunt Martha,” Hank called. Martha popped her head back around the corner. “I’d appreciate if you don’t say anything to the Becks about me being back in town. Clementine will find out soon enough.”
Martha pursed her lips, as if she wanted to say something. Finally, she just nodded and disappeared from the room.
Hank sat on his bed. If he looked hard enough, he could lay there and see the carving in the wall.
As worried as he was about how Clementine would react to seeing him on the ranch, he couldn’t help but feel excited for the prospect of seeing her again.
It would take some time to get to know her once more and rebuild her trust in him. However, Hank knew she was surely worth the wait.
Chapter 5
Clementine’s arms ached as she carried the large bucket of apples in her arms towards the kitchen of the main house. Walking through the open doorway in the back, she set the bucket on the counter, so hard that some of the apples tipped over onto the floor.
“Clementine!” her mother reprimanded her as she scrambled to pick up the apples. “We need those for the apple pie.” It was Saturday afternoon and they needed to make the pies for dinner the next day. Doc Roberts was visiting with her father. Even though he only worked part-time as a doctor now, he still checked up on her father weekly. Usually on Saturday afternoon which allowed Clementine and her Momma an opportunity to start Sunday dinner.
“Sorry Momma,” she said quickly, as she dropped down to pick up the apples her mother wasn’t able to grab. She set them back on the table, as her mother handed her an apron.
“Start cutting up the apples,” she said, motioning to the knife on the table. Clementine took the knife in her hands and grabbed an apple. She placed it on the wooden board on the table and started to cut straight diagonals into the sphere. Apple pie was one of her favorites. Clementine could already smell the cinnamon and sugar in the air.
She heard some giggles behind her and saw Rosalie Johnson and her two friends, Eden Larson and Audrey James walk through the kitchen. She really liked Rosalie. Rosalie’s friends she didn’t know very well. After all, they had just turned eighteen.
“He’s just so handsome!” Eden exclaimed, as she walked behind Rosalie and Scarlet. “And did you see the way he handled that horse? There is nothing more attractive than a man who cares about animals,” she said with a slight twang in her voice.
“You think everyone is attractive,” Rosalie said, with an eye roll. She crossed her arms and eyed her friend.
“Rosalie, we know you only have eyes for Martin. But that doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate what is around you,” added Audrey, as they stopped in front of Clementine. She leaned over and grabbed one of the apples. She brought it to her mouth, taking a large bite. “I have never seen such muscles. Did you see the side of his upper arms?”
Eden sighed, “I wonder how old he is? He is very handsome,” she repeated. Since Rosalie became engaged, Eden was determined to be the next bride in Belle.
“Too old for you,” Rosalie said. “I understand he brought a child here with him.”
“If I was her momma, I certainly wouldn’t have left them to come here alone.”
“I imagine even Clementine would think he was handsome, and she doesn’t think anyone is handsome,” she said with a slight smirk, taking another bite from the apple.
Clementine felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Even though Clementine was older, it still hurt. She had been the victim of Audrey’s taunts before. Clementine tried to keep her head down and not give them the satisfaction of seeing how Audrey’s words stung. Ignoring them, she continued to concentrate on cutting the fruit into slices.
“Girls, out,” Eva said. “Clementine and I have work to do.” She pointed to the door leading away from the kitchen.
“Leave Clementine alone,” Rosalie said, pulling Audrey towards the door. As Eden followed, she turned towards Clementine and mouthed “sorry” before disappearing down the hall. Once they were gone, Clementine let out a large breath.
“You would do better to ignore them, daughter,” her mother said, as she took the apple slices that Clementine cut and placed them in a large bowl with some sugar water.
She knew her mother was right; yet, it w
as harder to act on it. “I’ll try my best,” was all she could muster as she continued to cut the apples. “Who were they talking about, Momma?”
“You know I never listen to that nonsense,” she said, as she started to mix the sugars for the coating.
“They were saying that there is a new man at the stables,” she said.
Her mother paused in thought. “I think they might have a new stable boy. Came in yesterday on the train. That is where Martha was most of the day. I think he is staying with her. The child, too.”
“For someone who doesn’t listen to nonsense, you surely know a lot,” Clementine said dryly.
Her mother laughed and wiped her hands on her apron. “I guess I do. I just can’t be bothered with the silly games those young girls play.”
Clementine wondered who the gentleman was. Martha didn’t seem like the type of woman who would share her home with a lover. She was totally devoted to her husband, she doubted that she was sharing a marriage bed with this man.
There were few other options, as Martha never traveled off the farm if she had to. She knew most of the farm hands and stable boys, so it wouldn’t be someone that she already knew. And from the way the girls described him, it had to be someone that wasn’t from around here.
“Momma?” Clementine asked. “Do you think I’ll ever get married?”
Eva wiped her hands once more. “How about a cup of tea?” she asked, moving the kettle to the burner to heat.
“Momma, you aren’t answering me.”
Eva looked at her daughter. “I know we did you a disservice by having you stay at the house with me to take care of your father. With him needing so much care, I knew if I lost you too, I wouldn’t be able to cope.”
Her mother wasn’t one to give off vapors, so Clementine knew she was speaking from her heart.
“I wouldn’t have wanted to leave anyway.” Clementine said, grabbing another apple.
“But your father and I would have wanted you to, if the accident didn’t happen.” Her mother put her head in her hands. “Like all parents, we want you to get married, have babies and be happy. But time just slipped away.”
“Do you think it is too late for me?” Clementine asked again.
Her mother lifted her head, and Clementine could see that her eyes were turning red with unshed tears. “No, my sweet girl, I don’t think it is too late for you.” Eva opened her arms and Clementine flew into them, wrapping her arms around her mother.
“I do love you, Momma,” she said.
“I know you do, honey.” Eva patted Clementine on the shoulders. “We should get back to making these pies.”
Clementine held back a yawn. It was early Sunday morning and the church seemed especially crowded. Where there might have been one-horse towns, Belle was definitely small enough to be a one-church town.
She listened to Pastor Elkins speak, but didn’t really hear the words. Not that she wasn’t interested, but she was just so tired.
Clementine let her mind drift as she looked out of the window. After a few minutes she heard Pastor Elkins start to introduce the new folks in town, as he did each Sunday
She had stayed up late the night before to help set up the tables and chairs for the dinner today. Paps was glad to be hosting something outside, and Clementine hoped the weather held.
Once the apple pies were baking then she and her mother, along with Martha and Rosalie butchered and dressed a dozen chickens. Those were baked after the pies and cut into pieces for dinner.
Martha made her vinegar potato salad to go with the meal and Rosalie brought up vegetables that they had canned the year before.
Trays of food lined the wall of the insulated ice box Pap’s had in the kitchen. Most houses didn’t have one, but the elder Mr. Johnson had one installed as soon as he read about them in a paper from back east.
It was typically how they prepared the Sunday feast. Every week, it was simple, but hearty. It also allowed the ranch hands to have a home-cooked meal instead of the fare that was cooked at the bunkhouse.
Clementine let her mind drift as she looked out of the window. Suddenly a chorus of chatter filled the church.
Pastor Elkin was doing the introductions as he normally did every Sunday. All heads were turned to the back of the church. Clementine allowed her gaze to follow and suddenly it felt like her heart stopped beating.
Standing at the back was Hank Lucas, his hat in his hands.
Clementine ducked behind her mother’s shoulder, praying he didn’t see her. Curiosity consumed her and she had to see him once more.
She peeked over her mother’s back and took every inch of him in. His hair was still that shaggy brown – the color of chestnuts with streaks of honey where the sun highlighted it and reached his shoulders. His face was the same, except now it definitely looked like man and not a boy. He had full lips and a narrow chin.
His shoulders were broad, and her mouth went dry as she admired the muscles bulging from under the stretched fabric of his waist coat.
She wasn’t the only one who noticed. Eden was sitting right in front of him and appeared to be fawning over the pew. Well, she could have him. If he didn’t care enough to tell her he was coming back to town, then she didn’t care enough to know he was here.
If she could only tell her heart that.
She knew she needed to escape. She whispered to her mother that she wasn’t feeling very well and wanted to get home to relieve the Widow Akers, who was sitting with her father.
Eva gave Clementine a glance that said she knew exactly what was going on. “Be at the ranch by 1:00 so we can serve supper,” she whispered.
Clementine nodded. When the church stood to sing the closing hymn, Clementine snuck down the side of the pew. The standing parishioners provided a barrier between her and Hank.
When she got to the last pew, she took a quick peek around the family sitting there. She could see Hank sharing a hymnal with someone. His attention was on the book, so she counted to three, and slid out the door. She ran home as fast as she could without looking back.
Once she was there, she ran past Widow Akers who was knitting by the fire. She ran straight to her room, threw herself on her bed and cried.
Chapter 6
“Clementine, can you and Rosalie make sure the table is set outside? The men will be here soon, and every seat needs a place setting,” Martha said, pointing to the basket containing silverware and napkins.
Clementine followed Rosalie and walked from the kitchen into the sunshine. The men were starting to linger around.
There was a long table with ten chairs on each side. There was a red table cloth and a vase full of wild flowers, just like the vase of wild flowers she had at home. It looked very fancy, even for being a small country dinner.
Clementine knew that the ranch hands appreciated everything Paps did for them. He had a reputation for being a fair and honest employer. He did everything he could to make his workers feel cared for and part of a family. Which was why he insisted on a Sunday supper.
The day was still cool, but Clementine could feel the sun warm her shoulders. Rosalie took a stack of plates and moved around the table. Clementine followed her and set a knife, fork and napkin at each plate setting. She was careful to arrange the silverware in the manner that her mother had taught her.
As Clementine and Rosalie came to the last few place settings, she heard the rustle of young men coming from the barn. They must have been the stable boys. They were the youngest of Paps’ hands, and always the first in line to get food. They studied with the regular ranch hands for a year, before Paps would let them work in the livery. Then when he felt the time was right, he’d give them a horse of their own and an opportunity to become a permanent ranch hand.
“You know a lot about horses,” said a voice that she recognized as one of the stable boys. “They seem to really like you too.”
“Well, I hope so. You just gotta be extra gentle with them,” responded the voice that made Clement
ine almost drop the knife and fork that were in her hands. It was the same voice that haunted her sleep. It was rich, deep and masculine and flowed over her like honey. She knew that voice as much as she knew her own.
Why would he be at the Sunday dinner?
She didn’t want to look up, as she scolded herself for even hesitating. She heard their footsteps coming closer. She placed the last set of silverware down and started to head back into the kitchen.
She had just made it to the door, when someone grabbed her hand. When she looked up, she found herself staring into a pair of deep hazel eyes. The golden specks sparkled in the light of the day, transporting her back to that day on the hill and the vows they had made to each other.
“Clementine,” he said softly.
She had to strain to hear it as it was no more than a whisper. They stared at each other for what seemed like an hour but was no more than a minute. She realized that he was still holding her hand. She pulled it back abruptly, holding her wrist close to her chest as they continued to stare at each other.
Finally, she cleared her throat. “I think you have mistaken me for someone else.”
Hank looked confused, until she could see his trademark grin sneak up his beautiful face. One corner of his mouth would turn up and his eyes would crinkle. “Oh really?” he said. “You look so much like my childhood friend; I can’t believe it. You must be her twin.”
She wanted to yell at him. Ask how he would know what she looked like, since he never showed at the train station that fateful day nearly nine years ago? Instead she looked around at the men who were gathering at the table staring at them intently. Clementine lowered her head and looked at her fingers.
“I don’t know who you are taking about. That person isn’t here anymore,” she said, hoping her tone didn’t give away the nervousness she was feeling.
This didn’t stop Hank from continuing to smile at her. “Then tell me, beautiful lady, what is your name?”
The Homecoming Page 4