by Cox, Carol
seven
After a night’s sleep, Daniel looked on the previous day’s encounter from a new perspective. He’d been so elated by his business deal, then so troubled about Violet that he had failed to take into consideration the extreme pressure Rachel was under.
He knew how the nearing deadline weighed upon her, but instead of easing her burden, he had only added to it. Remorse for his shortsightedness gnawed at him. Hadn’t he seen grown men snap with little more provocation than Rachel had experienced over the past months? She needed some relief and needed it fast.
Daniel mulled over the possibilities while he grabbed a quick breakfast and went about his morning chores. Washing up his dishes took only a few moments, and he didn’t have much else to do around his temporary dwelling. Rachel had never inquired where he lived, and he wasn’t about to tell her he’d thrown together this little hut just up the road from them in a matter of days once she agreed to let him stay and help out. Knowing her reluctance to accept his aid in the first place, he could just imagine what her reaction to that would have been.
There had to be some way to lighten the millstone around Rachel’s neck, he thought while tossing a worn quilt over his cot. He couldn’t guarantee it, but it looked to him like she should have enough to pay her debt to the bank on time. Rachel wouldn’t rest, though, until she held the money in her hand.
He hung the washed pot back over the cold fire and prepared to leave for the day, chuckling at his quickly erected shelter. If Rachel got a glimpse of it, she would never believe he’d taken enough from his mining claim over the past two years to build up a sizable nest egg. More than enough to pay off her loan, in fact.
Why not do just that? He mounted his horse and set off, excitement rising in him at the thought. He could give Rachel the full amount, let her pay him off without a fixed deadline, and she could settle up with him whenever she had the funds to do so. It would solve everything. He tried to picture Rachel’s reaction when he sprang the idea on her, and his enthusiasm crumbled into dust.
He knew full well what her reaction to such a gesture would be. Rachel, with her stubborn pride, would work until she dropped rather than take on another loan.
Scowling, he refused to admit his idea had run into a dead end. True, Rachel had a feisty, independent nature, but she was a hard worker, honest, and fiercely loyal. The type of woman a man could trust, if such a creature existed. Somehow Daniel knew he’d want to help Rachel out of this fix, even if he’d never met Ike Canfield.
He turned his horse into the corral and carried his tack into the barn. A flash of color caught his attention, and he spied Violet poking around in the dark recesses of an empty stall.
“Hasn’t Molly turned up yet?”
The young girl turned at the sound of his voice, giving him the full effect of her startlingly blue eyes. With that lustrous dark hair and her heart-shaped face, she’d be downright beautiful one of these days, he thought. Rachel would have her hands full trying to keep hopeful suitors at bay once they noticed her.
“I don’t know where else to look,” she said. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I can’t find her anywhere. Do you think something’s happened to her?”
A lot of things could have happened, but Daniel wasn’t going to tell her that. Not right now, at least. Life in Arizona Territory wasn’t easy for rugged men, let alone a small animal like Molly. She could easily have been picked off by an owl, or fallen prey to a pack of coyotes, or met one of any number of brutal ends. “Hard to say,” he told her and left it at that.
Her frail shoulders slumped. “I guess I’d better get back to my chores. Rachel said she’ll get me if she catches me lollygagging again.”
Daniel stared after her. Something about Violet brought out a protective streak he hadn’t known he possessed. Would having a little sister or a daughter be anything like this? He scoffed at his fancy, wondering where that errant thought had come from.
Turning to hang up his bridle, he stopped in midstride when a thought gripped him. When he first showed up with his offer of help, Rachel had turned him down flat. Not until he balanced out the proposition by adding some benefit to himself had she been willing to consent. He now faced the same sort of situation. Rachel would never accept an outright advance of money, but what if he made one modification to his bargain? What if he asked Rachel to marry him?
The more he thought about it, the more enthusiastic he became. He would present the plan as honestly as he knew how, letting Rachel know right up front that he offered it as a business proposition rather than a romantic proposal. She valued straight talk; she would appreciate his forthrightness.
He went over the advantages so they’d be straight in his mind when he talked to her. With him on the scene, Rachel would never need to worry again about having to run the farm on her own. And as his wife, she should have no objection to him making the land payment for her. For himself, he’d once again have a place to belong after years on his own and someone to talk to after a long day’s work. Meeting Violet’s needs as well would be almost like having a daughter, and with him around, he thought with a chuckle, Rachel would have much-needed help in dealing with her sister’s would-be beaus.
Daniel slapped his hands on his knees, delighted with his plan. As a practical solution for them both, he didn’t see how anyone could improve on it. He would be giving up some of his independence, true, but during the times the farm work slacked off he would still be able to spend time at his mining claim. Plenty of other men did that, and they got along just fine, so marriage shouldn’t cramp his freedom too much.
Sometimes life called for a man to make a noble gesture for a good cause, and he felt pleased to be able to rise to the occasion. Now he only had to present the scheme to Rachel. He went off toward the cornfield, rehearsing what he would say in his mind to make sure he had the words right when he approached her.
❧
Rachel shook the dirt from the bunch of carrots in her hand and stuffed them into her gunnysack. She could see Daniel swinging the corn knife, its blade flashing in the sun. Thank goodness. After yesterday’s blowup, she couldn’t have blamed him if he’d decided never to come around again.
She sat back on her heels and watched him wrap a length of twine around another shock. As far as she could see, he was putting as much energy into his work as ever, maybe even more. How nice to know he didn’t hold a grudge!
She had prayed for forgiveness for her attitude the night before and made her peace with Violet over breakfast. She would have to make amends with Daniel at the first opportunity. After all, she had asked the Lord for help, and He’d sent it. She couldn’t expect Him to shower her with further blessings if she didn’t show appreciation for what He’d already given.
Some of her tension dropped away, and her mouth curved in a small smile. Daniel knew how to work hard, almost as if he loved the land as much as she did.
When the sun reached its zenith, she hurried back to the house to clean up before Daniel came in for lunch. She wanted to be presentable when she made her apology. To her surprise, he had already finished washing up before she arrived.
His freshly washed hands and face and slicked-back hair told her he’d taken some pains with his appearance. She hesitated, wondering if she should speak to him in her present grubby state, then decided to hurry to her room for a few quick moments with her washbasin and hairbrush. Then she would have the confidence to face him.
“Just a minute,” Daniel called when she started to step through the doorway. “I’d like to talk to you, if you don’t mind.”
Rachel looked down at her dusty clothes and made a wry face. Did the Lord want to give her a lesson in humility as well as gratitude? “All right,” she sighed.
Daniel led her a short distance away from the house. “I’d rather Violet didn’t overhear us,” he explained.
That suited Rachel. Admitting she’d been wrong didn’t come easily for her. She would just as soon have no witnesses. She looked at Dan
iel, enjoying the way the sunlight glinted in his hair. His deep green eyes held only sincerity, and their frank expression twisted at her heart. The man had offered his aid to two strangers in their time of need. He had shown them nothing but decency and a willingness to help. How on earth could she have spoken to him the way she did?
“I needed to talk to you too,” she began.
“All right. Just hear me out first,” Daniel put in.
Rachel felt a twinge of impatience. Wasn’t it just like a man to insist on getting his word in first when she was trying to apologize? “What I have to say won’t take long.”
“Neither will this.”
“But listen—”
“I think we ought to get married.”
Rachel froze, aware that her mouth hung wide open but powerless to do anything about it. Time seemed to stand still. She looked at Daniel as through a haze, saw his face alight with expectancy, and knew she ought to make some sort of response. “You—what?” she croaked.
“I know it’s a bit sudden,” Daniel began, “but when you think about it, it makes perfect sense.”
Rachel stood motionless, waiting for him to explain how it could possibly make any sense at all.
“You’ve been knocking yourself out to keep things going and get the money you need to pay off the bank,” he said. “You’re working hard. Too hard. I have an idea that can help both of us. If you marry me, I can make the payment for you, and you can keep the farm.”
Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “You said it would help us both. What do you get out of it?”
Daniel stuck his hands in his pants pockets and swallowed. “Plenty. A home and a family and—”
“And my father’s farm!” she shouted, hot tears spilling over to course down her cheeks. Decent and sincere she’d thought him. Had there never been an honorable man in the world save her father?
Daniel spread his hands, a look of bewilderment crossing his face. “Well, sure, I’d work the farm—”
“Leave me alone!” She bolted into the house, running past Violet to the sanctuary of her room and slamming the door behind her.
Lying across her bed, she let the tears flow unchecked. “Why?” she groaned aloud. “I thought he was different.” All her earlier suspicions rose up to taunt her. Why hadn’t she paid more attention to her initial misgivings? She had let Daniel sweet talk her, working hard and seeming trustworthy enough to make her think he only wanted to help. He had put on a good act, but it didn’t make any difference now. No matter how upright Daniel had appeared, all the while he had only been out to get her land.
Rachel pushed herself to a sitting position, propping her elbows on her knees, and cradling her head in her hands. She should have known better. She could be honest in assessing her looks. . .or lack of them. Violet had turned out to be the beauty of the family. Rachel was the sturdy one.
She felt no shame in that; physical strength helped her get the work done. But she knew beyond a doubt she didn’t possess the kind of allure that would make men flock after her. Certainly not enough to garner two proposals in as many days. Not for herself alone, at least.
To think she had felt chagrin at the way she had treated Daniel. Rachel writhed in mortification. What a fool she had been! What made her think she knew anything about men? Never mind. After Hiram’s clumsy bid for her hand the day before and now this evidence of Daniel’s perfidy, she now knew plenty about their scheming ways.
But he could have helped her save the farm. The thought teased at the corners of her mind and refused to go away. She rolled onto her side and curled her knees up under her chin. Had she made the worst blunder of her life in turning him down? In her heart, she knew marriage to be a sacred thing and not to be entered into lightly. But didn’t love sometimes come later? Had she just bungled the one chance she and Violet might have to keep their home? Had her stubbornness and high ideals cost them everything?
“Rachel?” Violet’s worried voice penetrated her awareness.
“Coming.” She splashed water from her washbasin onto her face and blotted it dry. Violet didn’t know about Hiram’s proposal; maybe she wouldn’t need to find out about Daniel’s. If she hadn’t acted like such a ninny, flying through the house that way, Violet wouldn’t have had reason to suspect anything was wrong.
She opened the door, prepared to bluff it out. “Is lunch ready?” She tried to make her voice sound casual.
“Yes, but. . .” Violet paused. “I think something’s wrong with Daniel. He saddled up and left without saying a word.”
Rachel avoided her gaze. “He must have had some business to attend to.”
“He didn’t say anything about it earlier. And Rachel? He looked angry. Do you think he’s coming back?”
“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” Rachel sat down at the table and waited for Violet to join her before she asked the blessing.
Would Daniel return? Could she bring in the rest of the harvest alone if he didn’t? Rachel pondered her dilemma while she ate. There wasn’t much left to do, she assured herself. She could manage if she had to. She swallowed a spoonful of the soup Violet had made but tasted only the bitterness of Daniel’s traitorous act.
Why should his leaving them to fend for themselves disappoint her so? She should feel glad his true motive had been revealed. What did it matter to her if he was no different than Hiram? The thought turned her stomach, and she left the rest of the soup uneaten.
eight
Rachel pulled her scarf close around her neck and pressed the tines of her digging fork into the garden soil. Giving the end of the handle a quick shove downward levered the tines back up, bringing a tangle of potatoes with them. She bent to knock off the dirt, then dropped them in her gunnysack and blew on her fingers to warm them.
The only thing certain about early fall weather in northern Arizona Territory, she thought wearily, was its unpredictability. Earlier that week she had enjoyed the warmth of the sun through her calico dress. Today, a biting wind stung her nose and fingers. She scanned the overcast sky, hoping the change in the wind didn’t portend an early snowfall.
It had been two days since Daniel left. Two long, grueling days that made her doubt that she did have the stamina to make it through to the end of harvest. The warmth of the fireside tempted her, but this year above all years, she dared not leave one potato or carrot in the ground, one stalk of corn standing in the field. She shivered and bent to her task again, wondering which was harder to bear: the summer heat or autumn chill.
Violet had been pressed into resuming more of the simpler outdoor chores, leaving Rachel free to do the heavier work. After two days of silence, it seemed clear that Daniel had no intention of returning, and they simply couldn’t fall behind. Good riddance, Rachel told herself, wishing her heart would join her head in celebrating his departure. He had shown his true colors at last, proving her instincts to be right all along. His absence shouldn’t hurt so much.
She would get over it, she vowed, and be stronger for the experience. Next time she would trust her intuition and keep her distance from offers that sounded too good to be true. She couldn’t risk losing her heart again, only to have it trampled underfoot another time.
With a sigh, she shouldered the digging fork and set off toward the barn, dragging the heavy sack behind her. Men like Hiram Bradshaw and Daniel Moore didn’t merit the sorrow they caused. She used the back of her hand to dash away the tears that spilled from her eyes; she couldn’t do a thing about the lump that clogged her throat.
Rachel dropped the sack inside the barn and gazed around the interior impatiently. Violet had been sent out earlier to tend to the milk cow, but the agitated lowing coming from the stall let Rachel know the animal hadn’t been fed yet. And her sister was nowhere to be seen.
Probably off somewhere woolgathering, Rachel thought bitterly. Generally, she found Violet’s dreamy nature entertaining, but seeing chores go neglected under the present circumstances made her fume.
“Psst.�
�� The soft hiss seemed to float out of the air over Rachel’s head. She looked up to see Violet peering down from the hayloft.
“What are you doing up there?” Rachel demanded. If this was another of her sister’s fanciful games. . .
“Shh. Not so loud. Come up here.”
“Can’t you come down?” Rachel softened her tone in spite of herself.
“Come on up, Rachel. Please.”
She let out an irritated sigh. “Oh, very well.” Why did she let Violet talk her into these things? She heaved herself over the edge of the loft and glared at her sister. “What now?”
Violet sat next to a mound of loose hay, watching a wriggling mound of fur with a rapt expression. “Look at them, Rachel. Aren’t they precious?”
Rachel stepped closer and saw Molly stretched out on her side, licking a tiny kitten with maternal pride. Her shoulders sagged.
“There are eight of them,” Violet whispered, oblivious to Rachel’s weary posture. She reached out to stroke the nearest kit with one finger. “No wonder I couldn’t find her; she’d gone off looking for the best place to have them. Isn’t it exciting?” When Rachel didn’t respond, she looked up. Her face clouded over when she saw her older sister’s lack of enthusiasm.
“You’re angry because I haven’t fed yet, aren’t you? I’m sorry, Rachel. I’ll get to it in just a few minutes, really I will. I came up here to throw some hay down and found Molly, and. . .I guess I just got caught up in the excitement of it all. Please don’t be mad.”
Her plaintive tone cut straight to Rachel’s heart. Daniel had been right about one thing: Violet had experienced loss too. No matter that Rachel now had eight more lives depending on her. How could she begrudge Violet this little bit of joy when their world had been turned upside down?
With an effort, she forced a smile. “I’m not mad, Honey. Just see to your chores before it gets too late, all right?” Violet’s look of gratitude dispelled some of her gloom but didn’t relieve her of her responsibilities. She descended the ladder and picked up the corn knife, feeling like she carried the weight of the world on her slim shoulders, and no one seemed to care, except to add to it.