Season Of Hope

by Cox, Carol

  Her sister looked up when she stopped in the doorway. “Was that Hiram Bradshaw?” she asked. “What got him all stirred up?” Her nose wrinkled, and her eyes grew round. “Rachel, what on earth is that awful stench? You didn’t run into a skunk, did you?” Her gaze dropped to Rachel’s hands and her lips formed an O. “Did you get hold of a bad egg?”

  Rachel glanced down and saw she still held the basket. A basket only half full. She had lost more than the one she threw at Hiram in her dash for freedom.

  Violet’s forehead crinkled in concern. “You didn’t have to do my chores, Rachel. I meant to tend to the chickens right after I fixed us something to eat.”

  “It’s all right. I didn’t think you’d neglected them. I just needed something to do right then, so I took care of them for you.” She turned and hurried to her room before Violet could ask why she’d needed something more to occupy her on an already busy day. Violet didn’t need to know the details of Hiram’s visit. . .or hear any hint of his proposal.

  In the privacy of her room, Rachel filled the bathtub with water she’d intended for the laundry, glad she didn’t have to wait for it to heat. She started to unbutton her dress, then stopped in dismay. Until she finished the wash, she didn’t have another clean garment to her name. What on earth could she do? All Violet’s dresses soaked in the tub along with her own, and they were at least two sizes too small for her, anyway.

  She tiptoed out to the cupboard where some of Pa’s clothes were still kept. Silly, she guessed, but she hadn’t had the heart to dispose of all of them yet. She pulled a shirt and a pair of overalls from a drawer and eyed them doubtfully. They would have to do, she decided. She only needed to wear them until her own clothes were clean and dry once more. Surely there wouldn’t be any more visitors today.

  With her mind made up, she carried them back to her room, pulled off her dress and underthings, and stepped into the tub.

  Rachel closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of the steaming water. She reached for the soap and began to scrub, wishing she could scour away the memory of Hiram’s nearness as easily as the smell of rotten egg. She pulled a strand of hair loose and sniffed. Phew! She would have to wash it too.

  Even after her skin glowed pink and her hair hung over her shoulders in a damp cascade, Rachel stayed in the tub, longing to close her eyes again and relax just a few moments. It took all the force of will she possessed to get to her feet and begin toweling herself dry. Chores still awaited her, piled up even higher now that she’d lost so much time due to Hiram’s visit and its aftermath. She squeezed the water out of her hair and thought bleakly of the days ahead.

  Would the work ever ease up? She spent every waking moment tending to some aspect of the farm, whether working in the field or the garden, delivering vegetables and eggs to town, or totting up the latest figures in her ledger.

  Even in her sleep, the constant worry never completely left her. More than once, she had awakened with a start after a series of nightmares. The worst one returned to haunt her again and again. In it, she and Violet stood on the porch in the dim light of a cold, gray dawn. Each of them held a small bag containing two dresses and a nightshirt. All their other belongings, even the photographs of Ma and Pa, had to stay behind. Weeping piteously, the girls clutched one another, knowing they were about to leave their home, never to return.

  A grim-faced sheriff stood at the foot of the porch steps, ready to remove them by force if need be. Even their most heartrending appeals failed to move him. He never changed expression, only pointed toward the road with an unyielding arm. Feeling as though she were stepping off the edge of an abyss, Rachel put her arm around Violet’s shoulders and led her off the porch. At the same moment, snow began to fall, huge flakes that tumbled from the sky and blotted out the distant landscape.

  Blinking to see through the heavy flurry, Rachel could make out only one object: Hiram Bradshaw stood at the edge of their property, thumbs hooked behind his belt, and his mouth wide open in a triumphant laugh.

  At that point she would sit bolt upright, chest heaving and covered with droplets of sweat despite the chill of the autumn night. Smoothing out the tangled sheets and blotting the tears from her face brought back some sense of normalcy, but she found it took longer each time to convince herself the unnerving experience had only been a dream.

  Then there were the household duties. Using the hay box had freed both her and Violet from having to spend hours over the stove, but the remaining kitchen chores demanded attention, all the same. Violet took care of most of those as well as tending to the animals, but her gentle, dreamy sister was too easily diverted by any distraction that happened to catch her attention to always keep her mind on the task at hand. Thus, Rachel had to add keeping tabs on Violet to her other responsibilities.

  She pulled Pa’s shirt on over her head and stepped into the overalls, feeling burdened beyond her ability to cope. His clothes hung on her, and she leaned over to roll up the legs. Her fingers traced over a spot she’d mended for him just last spring. When Pa was alive, they’d worked plenty hard, but they still found time at the end of the day to visit and share with one another. Time to discuss the day’s events, to reminisce about the past and plan for the future. Rachel worked her brush through the wet tangles in her hair and felt the hot sting of tears behind her eyelids.

  What would she and Violet do if she didn’t come up with the cash they needed by December 15? Hiram’s dark allusions to the possible fate of penniless young women alone in the world haunted her. She had heard enough about other destitute girls forced to earn their keep in the saloons along Whiskey Row to know there was some truth to his assertions. Bad enough to think about letting Pa down by losing the farm; how could she bear it if she put Violet in peril of some hideous fate?

  The sun moved further along its circuit through the sky, and still Rachel sat on the edge of her bed, staring into the prospects of a dismal future. How could they have reached such desperate straits in so short a time?

  All she had ever wanted was to help Pa on the farm and someday to marry a hardworking farmer like him. Never had she faced the prospect of having to contemplate a different sort of existence. Farm life was all she cared about, all she ever wanted. She bent over and covered her face with her hands. Pa had admonished her about her stubborn streak more than once. Had she been so bent on following her own desires that she had never considered the possibility that God might have something quite different in mind for her?

  A new thought struck her with the force of a blow. Just how much did staying here mean to her? Would she ever be so desperate to cling to her beloved farm that she’d entertain the notion of accepting Hiram’s offer, or one like it? She shuddered, not knowing whether she felt more repulsed by his contemptible proposition or herself for giving the idea even a fleeting consideration. She would find some way to keep body and soul together without compromising their honor. She had to.

  She started to pull back her damp hair, then shrugged and decided to leave it hanging loose. With all the work still left to be done before dark, she couldn’t spare even the few seconds it would take to twist it into a bun. Besides, it would dry more quickly that way. She picked up her reeking dress and carried it out her door at arm’s length, so intent on getting back to her washing that she nearly crashed into Violet.

  “Rachel, have you seen Molly?”

  “Not lately,” she said, debating whether to heat fresh water or use what she already had. She didn’t know how clean the clothes would be if she didn’t take the time to reheat it, but maybe soaking as long as they had already would be enough. She stepped onto the porch and glanced at the sun. The water they’d been sitting in would have to suffice, she decided. She just didn’t have enough time to start over.

  Violet touched her arm. “Rachel?”

  “At least they’ll be cleaner than they were, and that’s a mercy.”

  “Rachel!” Violet’s urgent tone finally claimed her attention.

  “What is i
t?” she demanded.

  Violet’s lower lip quivered at the brusque question, but she continued. “I said I can’t find Molly anywhere. Could you help me look?”

  Giving her sister an exasperated glance, Rachel went down the steps and reached into the tepid water, grabbing the first garment her hands touched. She set the washboard into position and scrubbed the dress back and forth across its rough ridges.

  Violet followed and took a challenging stance, hands on her hips. “You could at least answer me. I’m worried about her.”

  “I don’t have time,” Rachel replied, nettled by the new interruption. “With everything else that needs to be done, I really can’t get too worked up about a cat.” She clenched her teeth together before she could say more, not wanting to snap at her sister.

  “She’s not just any cat. She’s Molly! I thought you cared about her.” Violet whirled and went out to resume her search, but not before Rachel noted the crystal droplets shimmering on her lashes. She sighed in annoyance. How could Violet be concerned over something so foolish when real problems stared them in the face?

  She worked her way through the clothes, fuming about her sister’s behavior. If Violet would pay more attention to her responsibilities and spend less time fretting about nonsensical things like missing cats, maybe Rachel wouldn’t have to shoulder the burden of their predicament alone.

  Looking down at the water running from her elbows to the legs of Pa’s overalls, a grimace of wry amusement twisted her lips. At least one good thing had come out of Violet’s preoccupation with the cat’s whereabouts. She’d been so worked up about Molly that she hadn’t even noticed Rachel’s unusual garb.

  six

  Daniel shifted on the wagon seat and tipped his hat brim down to shield his eyes from the sun. He hadn’t planned on getting back this late, but the long conversation over coffee in the supply sergeant’s quarters had been a profitable one.

  The sergeant’s usually cheerful demeanor had been shadowed by worry over the low supply of fodder for the cavalry horses. When Daniel casually mentioned the enormous pile of cornstalks back at the farm, the soldier slapped his hand on the table and pledged to buy them all.

  The extra money would be a welcome addition to their income. It had been time well spent.

  Once he’d taken care of the horses, he’d be more than ready to tuck into a hot meal. He chuckled, wondering what Rachel and Violet had decided to fix for supper. He’d eaten better since he started working on the Canfield place than he had in months. No doubt about it, baching had its disadvantages, and one of them was having to put up with his own cooking.

  The horses swung into the turnoff of their own accord and plodded toward the barn. Daniel squinted into the sun, trying to make out the forms in front of the house. A lone figure bent over the washtub. Daniel frowned. Rachel had told him she planned to use the day for household chores, but he would have thought the wash would have been finished long before this.

  Had she hired someone to come in and help? He didn’t recognize the overall-clad fellow. Wait. He slitted his eyes and stared in disbelief. A man with long brown hair? He blinked and took a second look, then let out a hearty guffaw when he identified the stranger as Rachel.

  She raised her head and glared at him. Daniel wiped the smile from his face. What other woman did he know who would wear such outrageous garb? But then, he never quite knew what to expect from Rachel Canfield. She could work as hard outdoors as a man and still fix some of the lightest biscuits he’d ever tasted. The woman was a surprising blend of grit and femininity, and all the more captivating for her unpredictability.

  “Looks like your pa’s shirt fits you better than it did me,” he said, unable to resist the urge to tease her. A rosy blush crept from below the shirt collar to tint her face and neck.

  “It’s about time you got back,” she snapped. “What did you do, decide to take the long way home?”

  Daniel only grinned. With that tinge of pink staining her cheeks and her hair hanging loose to her waist, she looked like a petulant little girl, but he wasn’t about to tell her so. In her present testy mood, she’d probably heave a bucket of that wash water all over him.

  “I got some good news at the fort,” he told her, outlining his deal to sell cornstalks to the soldiers. “It will mean a few more trips over there, but it’ll be more than worth it.”

  “Oh.” Rachel’s expression softened a trifle. She twisted the apron she held to wring out the rinse water and marched up the steps to hang it over the porch railing.

  Daniel watched her hair swing behind her, his gaze following its rippling motion in fascination. Almost looks like a mountain waterfall. He’d seen shady forest pools just that color of oak-leaf brown.

  He caught himself up with a start. Where had those thoughts come from? Calling himself all kinds of a fool, he clicked his tongue at the horses and urged them toward the barn once more.

  ❧

  Rachel shook out another of Violet’s dresses and hung it up to dry. With such a late start, the clothes would probably have to stay out all night. She kept on draping the rest of the laundry over the porch rail and the rope Pa had strung at one side of the house, one part of her mind on the job at hand, the other intent on watching the barn door.

  Funny how things never turned out quite the way you’d expect. She should have been mortified when Daniel came upon her wearing Pa’s clothes. But instead of being shocked, he’d sounded amused, and much to Rachel’s surprise, his teasing comment had put her at ease.

  Daniel’s look had been nothing like Hiram’s. She’d seen nothing improper in his gaze, only acceptance of an unexpected situation. Pa would have done much the same thing, she thought, a small smile curving her lips. He wouldn’t have questioned why she had chosen such an outlandish getup, only assumed that she must have had a good reason.

  It felt good to have that kind of unquestioning approval again. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed it. Some of her weariness lifted, and her shoulders straightened as though a physical weight had been lifted.

  Daniel emerged from the barn and started to swing the heavy doors closed. Good. If he’d agree to take over feeding the animals and shutting them up for the night, her chores could be finished before supper. Her smile faded when she saw Violet approach Daniel, laying a pleading hand on his arm.

  Violet and her cat! Fortunately, Daniel understood the need to ignore such foolishness and focus on important matters. Her mouth fell open when he patted Violet on the shoulder and set off with her, apparently in search of Molly.

  Rachel gritted her teeth. This was too much. She would have to take Violet to task about it later, after Daniel left. So much for any expectation of his help. She flung the last garment across the line and prepared to finish the chores herself.

  Daniel walked into the barn just as she climbed down from the loft after forking down the last ration of hay for the day. “About ready for supper?” he asked.

  “Did you find Molly?” she asked in a tone that rivaled a November frost.

  “No. Violet’s plenty worried about her too.”

  Rachel whirled on him. “Maybe Violet should try worrying about keeping this place going, instead of wasting her time on a fool cat. I could use more help around here.”

  “Whoa.” Daniel held up his hand and regarded her thoughtfully. “Who are you really talking about here, Violet or me?”

  Rachel drew in deep gulps of air. She knew if she opened her mouth again she couldn’t control the tremor in her voice, knew she felt her frustration so keenly she might not be able to stop the flow of angry words once she got started. She pressed her lips together, but they tumbled out in spite of her efforts.

  “How could you run off and spend the time on a fool’s errand like that when there’s so much work to be done? Violet should have better sense than to ask you to do something so trifling when you were late getting back in the first place. . . and you should have known better than to indulge her like that.”r />
  Daniel’s sandy eyebrows drew together. “Have you looked at your sister lately? Really looked at her? She’s hurting, Rachel. Remember, she lost her father too. Maybe she needs a bit more babying than she’s been getting. Frankly, I’m a lot more concerned about Violet than the cat.”

  The truth of his words hit home like an arrow finding its mark. Rachel braced her feet and lifted her chin to keep him from seeing how his accusation had staggered her. “You’d better wash up,” she told him through stiff lips. “It’s time for supper.”

  He stared at his feet a moment, then lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Not tonight. I’ll be heading on home. I have some chores of my own to do, and I don’t want to be late in the morning.”

  He turned on his heel and left. Rachel stood rooted to the spot until he had ridden out and disappeared down the road. Even with both hands clamped across her mouth, she was unable to stifle the whimper that rose in her throat. How much would her stubborn pride cost her before she learned to control her tongue?

  ❧

  How could anyone so outwardly appealing manage to turn into a snarling wildcat at the least provocation? Daniel turned the question over in his mind on the way back to his diggings. The new source of income he’d discovered that day meant financial help not only for this season but for the years ahead. The Canfields’ situation had taken a major turn for the better, yet Rachel seemed bent on finding something to raise a fuss about, no matter how much their outlook improved.

  And what about that business of him being late? If he hadn’t spent the extra time with the supply sergeant, he never would have learned of their need for stalks that would have otherwise gone to waste. It just went to show you could never tell about women. The way he felt right now, he’d be happy if he never saw Miss Rachel Canfield again. Still, there was his debt to Ike, and he didn’t take his obligations lightly.