A Family for the Rancher

by Louise M. Gouge

  “Good job, pup.” Calvin grabbed his little brother around the neck and ruffled his hair.

  “Woof, woof.” Laughing, Jacob wriggled free and raced into the house, followed closely by Calvin and Samuel.

  Lula May set a hand on Edmund’s arm. “Thank you.” Her eyes were rimmed with red like she was about to cry. “Just two days, and look at the confidence you’ve given him.”

  Edmund wanted to shrug again and say something real smart like “aw, shucks.” He wasn’t used to dealing with grateful mamas. Grateful, pretty women. Lula May blinked those big blue eyes, and he felt a considerable disturbance in his chest. Swallowing hard, he managed, “Do I smell chicken?”

  * * *

  Lula May watched with satisfaction as Edmund dug into his second bowl of chicken and flat dumplings, one of her specialties. Tonight, instead of assaulting the poor man with all of her new ideas or insisting the children eat quietly while the adults talked, she reined in her mouth and initiated the family’s usual supper conversation. Each person took a turn holding the large “talking feather,” an eagle’s feather Calvin had found out on the prairie years ago. Each one shared something special that happened in his or her day and some blessing received from the Lord. No one was permitted to talk without the feather.

  Pauline, Daniel and Calvin had already had their turns, with a mixture of laughter and groans in response to their stories, and the feather had reached the far end of the table.

  “You don’t have to participate, Edmund.” Lula May hadn’t thought ahead about how this favorite family activity would affect their guest. Maybe Edmund would be too reticent or even too embarrassed to talk in front of her family.

  Calvin started to pass the feather across the table to Samuel, but Edmund intercepted it.

  “Not so fast, cowboy.” He took the black-and-white feather from Calvin and studied it for a moment. A slow grin came over his face clear up to his bright green eyes. “Can’t think of a bigger blessing than this fine meal. Best thing to happen to me today.” He held the feather out to Samuel, obviously finished.

  Jacob snickered. “’Specially after what Mr. Mushy served us for dinner. What was that, exactly, Mr. McKay?”

  “Best not to ask, Jake.” Those green eyes twinkled, and Edmund sucked in his cheeks, probably to pucker away a smile.

  Everyone else laughed with loose and free guffaws such as none of them had since Frank died. For Lula May’s part, she felt as if the weight that had been sitting on her chest for three years was finally starting to lift. When her turn came to share her day, she was ready.

  “Any day when I sell two horses is a good day, and I thank the Lord for His provision.”

  “You sold two?” Calvin had been out in the far pasture working with some of the younger horses when her first customer came by, and she hadn’t had a chance to give him the good news.

  “Yes. Lucas Bennett wants that paint Zeke was so keen to buy. He said he’ll be back late next week with the money.” She wouldn’t try to figure out why Nancy said her husband might not be able to pay his dues for the cattlemen’s group and yet now wanted one of Lula May’s most expensive horses. But then, while Frank had taught Lula May about horse ranching, he hadn’t shared money matters with her until he became ill and took to his bed. Then he’d taught her everything he knew. Not all husbands would be so willing to do that. Not many men. And thinking of the other ranchers, she quashed the urge to remind Edmund of his promise to ask them about her attending the meeting next week. If it was meant to be, she wouldn’t have to remind her neighbor like a nagging wife. Oh, dear. Where had that thought come from? Best to quash that, too.

  To her relief, as Edmund took his leave of her right after supper, he brought up the subject.

  “You sure you don’t want to go tonight? The men’ll want to thank you for these.” He held up the paper sack of oatmeal cookies she’d made instead of lemon cake because they were easier to serve.

  After such a pleasant supper, her heart couldn’t have been any lighter, but now it soared. He remembered his promise to her. “No, but thank you.” She laughed softly. “And if they think those cookies are a bribe to let me come next time, tell ’em they’re right.”

  Edmund chuckled in that chest-deep way of his, and her heart tumbled all over itself. She really had to stop these pathetic reactions to his manly ways. She’d been around men all her life and had learned early on that nothing good ever came from giving in to giddy emotions they stirred up. Still, it was awful nice to see Edmund come out of himself with her, with her family. And the value of what he was doing for Jacob’s self-confidence couldn’t be measured.

  Letting her son take part in the Young Ranchers’ Club had been a good decision, she silently told Frank. Even as she did that, she knew she was being unfair to her late husband. He’d always been kind to her, much like her father had been and nothing at all like her cruel uncle. But he always seemed distracted, and she’d come to the conclusion that he was always comparing her to Emily, always missing his first wife.

  Now, for just that reason, as Edmund rode away, she reminded herself that she didn’t need a man in her life. Edmund might be attractive and mannerly, even a bit shy and self-effacing, but he was probably just as controlling as most men when it came to women. Sure, he’d invited her to the meeting, but he also had one of the most successful ranches in the area. That took a powerful lot of control. She would never again submit herself to being under any man’s control. Never.

  * * *

  That night, Edmund met some resistance from the other ranchers, but in the end, after they’d eaten the oatmeal cookies, more men agreed to Lula May’s joining them than objected.

  On Wednesday, he looked forward to giving her the good news that evening, not to mention enjoying another one of her fine meals. He couldn’t remember ever having such a good time as he’d had during supper last night. A man could get used to that sort of thing.

  Whoa! Gotta stop thinking that way. He didn’t need a woman in his life. Didn’t need a ready-made family. Sure, he enjoyed teaching ranch skills to the boys who came to his place each day. Had enjoyed the relaxing talk around the Barlows’ table the past two evenings. Yet he missed the quiet of his own thoughts after a long day of work, times when he sorted life out, read a good book and made decisions for expanding his spread and protecting it from more cattle rustling.

  Funny how he couldn’t keep those thoughts in mind that evening when Lula May served up ham and black-eyed peas like he’d never eaten in his life. And on the side, tasty turnip greens with a dash of tangy apple cider vinegar and corn bread dripping with fresh-churned butter, not to mention chocolate macaroon cookies waiting on the sideboard for dessert.

  As he’d figured, Lula May was pleased at the vote in her favor. Maybe she didn’t seem as enthusiastic as he’d expected, but that just went to prove how unpredictable women were. To be fair, during supper he noticed an odd shadow cross her face from time to time. Maybe she had some sort of worry that was none of his business. Yet, after thinking on it for half of the meal, he couldn’t keep from blurting out, “Lula May, are you doin’ all right?”

  She blinked those big blue eyes and put on one of her pretty smiles that didn’t seem quite real. “Why, yes. Everything’s just fine.”

  If she was one of his hands, Edmund would know how to coax or demand an honest answer from her. But as little as he knew about women, he did know not to bully them. Wouldn’t even want to. Bullying destroyed trust. Before he could think of a way to crack open her protective shell, Calvin spoke up.

  “Say, Mr. McKay, would you stick around after supper and play a game of checkers with me? Ma and my brothers don’t give me much of a challenge, but I believe you could.”

  Something in the boy’s eyes said more than his invitation. Did Calvin also notice his ma’s mood and hope for some help from Edmund? Not that
he felt he could help, but he’d go along with Calvin instead of his own better judgment that told him to hightail it out of there after dessert.

  “Sounds good to me.” In fact, he hadn’t played checkers in a while and would enjoy a game or two. “That is, if your ma doesn’t mind.” He sent Lula May a friendly, questioning look.

  “No.” Her voice had a bit of a squeak to it. “No, that’s fine. Calvin, get your chores done first.” She commenced to giving orders to the young’uns, and they hopped to it like they were going to a party. “Mr. McKay and I will be waiting for you in the parlor.”

  In the few minutes it took for Edmund to settle into Frank’s chair and Lula May to take up her mending, she’d managed to paste on a more relaxed face.

  “Would you mind telling me more about last night’s meeting?”

  “Sure.” Edmund had already told her over supper about some of the discussion. “What would you like to know?”

  “Did they like my idea? I mean about using some of the dues to start building a church?”

  “I didn’t mention it.” Her wounded expression provoked him to hurry on. “I thought you should bring it up when you come next week.”

  “Oh.” She still frowned. “So you don’t agree with me?”

  “No, ma’am. I mean, yes, ma’am, I agree that we need a church building. I just think that sort of project is more appropriate for the ladies’ quilting bee.”

  “I disagree.”

  Of course she disagreed. Edmund kept his expression neutral and tried to appear interested as she went on.

  “Most men handle the finances for their homes, so they’d have more resources to draw from than their wives would. Besides, we sold and raffled off quilts at the Founders’ Day celebration and couldn’t raise near enough to build a shed, much less an entire church. The men should take on this project.”

  “Yes, ma’am, but putting that on the cattlemen’s association is a bit impractical.” Edmund felt cornered. He sure didn’t want to start an argument. “The men will be busy figuring out how to protect their ranches from those rustlers. They don’t need to add such a big project to the agenda.”

  “Big and important. When winter comes and when the spring winds blow, you’ll be glad to meet in a sheltered building instead of a tent.”

  Edmund groaned inwardly. How did he get out of this dilemma? “Tell you what. If you feel strongly enough about it, you can bring it up to the other ranchers and see whether they agree with me or you. Besides, you had the idea, so you should tell ’em.”

  “Oh.” She blinked those pretty blue eyes in an appealing way.

  “And if you come up with an idea I like, I’ll let everybody know.”

  Now she smiled, and that made Edmund’s chest warm up even more than the ham and black-eyed peas had. “All right then, because I’d hate to embarrass either of us with talking too much in front of the other men. Most of them prefer for the ladies to keep quiet, if their behavior at church socials is any indication.” She poked her needle through a hole in a white sock. “If you think they’ll like any of my ideas, well, then...” She gave a little shrug. “I know the other men respect you, so you can make sure my ideas are actually put into action.”

  “I can try.” If anybody else pulled such a trick on him, he’d feel used. Yet the conversation had shown him something new about this spunky little widow. She claimed not to need anything, but if nobody listened to her ideas, she did need someone to speak up for her. “I should tell you that George and Robert appreciated your idea about including their sons in the Young Ranchers’ Club, and I hear Mercy Green did, too. Pastor Stillwater brought the new boys out these past two days, and they’re all starting to get along real fine.” He paused to enjoy her smile. “I did tell ’em that was your idea.”

  A real happy look bloomed all over her face. “That was nice. Thank you, Edmund.”

  Edmund had to swallow hard to keep from telling her how pretty she was when she smiled that way. Such talk should be reserved for courting, and he was not courting Widow Barlow. Had no plans to court her or anybody else. Had no idea how to court. Didn’t want to. No, sir!

  Pretty soon the young’uns came in, filling the room with their chatter. Little Pauline served out those mouthwatering chocolate macaroon cookies. Calvin set out the checkerboard, and he and Edmund started their game. The other three boys, even little Daniel, looked on with interest, each one insisting on a turn. Edmund could tell he’d be here for a spell. Funny, the idea didn’t bother him in the least. It was a mighty homey scene with Lula May and Pauline sitting nearby mending socks and humming a little tune in harmony. A man could get used to... No. No, he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. His freedom was too dear.

  Besides, Lula May kept glancing toward her office just off the parlor, a worried look returning to her face. The last thing Edmund needed was a moody woman in his life, happy one minute, worried the next and peevish at the drop of a hat.

  Even so, he couldn’t get shed of the thought that she had a problem. Nor could he ignore the Lord’s familiar prompting. Maybe he should try to get her mind off of whatever was troubling her.

  “Say, Lula May, I’ve been meaning to ask you.” He jumped two of Calvin’s checkers and reached the other side of the board. “Crown me.”

  Calvin groaned as he did it and then studied the board for his next move.

  “Yes?” Lula May stared down at her mending, which was a good thing because Edmund didn’t want to get caught up in those big blue eyes.

  “Did you sell any more horses today?” He’d planned to talk to Lucas Bennett about the paint, but the man hadn’t shown up at the meeting. He’d sent his foreman, Hank Snowden, instead. Edmund sure hoped Lucas came through with the money for the horse so Lula May wouldn’t be let down. Especially since she might have been able to sell the paint to that cowboy yesterday.

  “Not today. In a good month, I sell one or two.” For a talkative lady, she didn’t seem inclined to say more.

  How was a man supposed to draw more out of her? Maybe he should try talking to her like he would to a man. “Do you sell to just anybody?”

  Now she looked up. “You got somebody in mind?”

  “No.” Maybe this was a bad idea. He hadn’t meant to get her hopes up. “But if anybody asks, I’ll send ’em your way. Any good man, that is.”

  “I’d be much obliged.” She grinned when Calvin took three of Edmund’s checkers in one move. “You’d better watch out there.” She slipped the milky-white glass darning egg out of the sock she was working on and inspected her work. “I only sell to folks who’ll treat my horses right.”

  “I admire that practice.” It probably cost her some sales, but some things were more important than money.

  Edmund eyed Calvin. He needed to win this first game to gain the boy’s respect, but not too easily. He nudged his crowned checker over one square and eyed his opponent before looking back at Lula May. “Where’d you learn so much about horse training?”

  From the guarded look on her face and the hunching of her shoulders, he could tell he’d stepped over a line. Then she relaxed. “Down in Alabama where I grew up, an elderly former plantation groom taught me.” She paused and chewed her lip like Jacob used to do. “How about you? Did you grow up on a ranch? Is that where you learned to raise such prime cattle?”

  “Nope.” He waited his turn, then took the rest of Calvin’s checkers.

  Even though he groaned over losing, Calvin shook Edmund’s hand like a man and moved over so Samuel could play.

  While they reset the board, Edmund considered how much he should tell Lula May about his life. With her growing up on a plantation, she’d probably had most everything she needed in life, even after the ravages of the war. What would she think of his humble beginnings? He reminded himself that Old Gad always told him there was no shame in being an orphan. O
nce he got started, though, he found himself telling the whole yarn: his parents’ deaths, being separated from his two brothers, being on his own at sixteen. He left out the part about his disagreeable cousin. But he did tell her about the old cowboy who found him one day walking down the road all hopeless and hungry and turned his life around. He was rewarded with those pretty blue eyes getting all red around the edges. He supposed a woman’s tears were all right when a smile went along with them.

  Having stayed later than he’d planned, he rode home in the dark. This had been the best evening so far. Good food, good games of checkers—just for fun, he’d let little Daniel beat him—good conversation. Just sitting in Frank’s chair in that nice little parlor with all of them around him had stirred up some of those vague longings inside him again.

  No, he needed to quit entertaining such foolhardy thoughts. They’d bring him nothing but grief. How could he get them to stop? With three more days—and evenings—ahead to complete his bargain with Lula May, how was he going to guard his heart against misery when it stopped? After all, why would a lady raised on a Southern plantation want to have anything to do with a simple rancher who’d learned everything of value in life from an ordinary old cowboy?

  In spite of his reservations, he couldn’t stop feeling something was out of line, and that annoying sense of protectiveness came back, as sure as anything a prompting from the Lord. He recalled the uneasy glances Lula May cast toward her office from time to time. Was she worried about the cash she’d collected yesterday from her horse sale? If Zeke mentioned to anyone that he’d bought from her, the rustlers might hear of it and try to rob her. Or maybe it was something else. Edmund could have pressed her about whatever was bothering her. But he’d probably just mess it up, and she’d probably get her feathers ruffled like she did on Monday morning and claim he was sticking his nose in her business. Best just to keep quiet and not let her know he was keeping an eye out for her. Yep, that was the best way to go about it. The best way to stay out of trouble.