A Family for the Rancher

by Louise M. Gouge

  “We had a few mavericks get spooked, but no injuries to man or beast.” Edmund felt the urge to tell him about Lula May’s near disaster, but couldn’t figure out a way to say it without bragging. Or sounding crazy by saying he knew for sure the Lord had sent him to the arroyo.

  He should talk about tomorrow night’s meeting of the ranchers. He remembered that Lula May would be coming with him, and his spirits lifted considerably. Maybe he could wrangle an invitation to supper beforehand. Whoa. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? Best to think of a different, safer person to discuss. “You think Bennett will be at the meeting tomorrow night?”

  “Nope.” Snowden shook his head, and confusion crossed his face. “You’d think he’d want to know what’s happening firsthand. In fact, last week after I returned from our meeting, he wanted to know all the details.” He frowned. “He got a bit riled when I said we voted to let Lula May Barlow join us. Said it was no place for a woman.”

  “Humph.” Edmund tried not to let his indignation show. If Lucas Bennett refused to attend, he hardly had any right to say Lula May couldn’t. Besides, it had been Edmund’s idea for her to come, and he wasn’t about to turn around and tell her she had to stay home. “So, have you all lost any cattle to the rustlers?”

  “Nope.” Snowden took a swig of coffee. “The boys and I take turns keeping watch every night, so rustlers would have a hard time getting past us. How about you?”

  “None since that first time.” Edmund shook his head at the memory. “They got about twenty head. Since then, like you and Lucas, I’ve kept a half dozen cowhands out every night. Rustlers would be fools to come against that many guns.”

  They chatted about the price of feed and a few other mundane matters. Just to be sociable, Edmund stayed while Snowden finished his supper. After he had dessert, they parted company and went their separate ways with a “See you tomorrow night.”

  With no sense of urgency to get home, Edmund gave Zephyr his head and cantered most of the way. When they neared the arched entryway into his property, he expected Zephyr to slow, but the stallion kept up his pace, passing the drive and continuing eastward toward the High Bar Ranch.

  “Whoa, boy. Whoa.” Edmund reined the animal to a stop. “What’s the matter with you? One week of going over there and you think that’s where we live now?” He nudged Zephyr with his knees and reined him around toward home. “Stupid horse.”

  In response, the stallion whickered and tossed his head. As he had on the way into town, Edmund got the strangest impression that Zephyr was scolding him.

  But of course that was just his imagination.

  * * *

  “A very fine meal, children.” In spite of her words of praise, Lula May had to force herself to eat the concoction they’d made for supper. Even though the leftover ham, steak, potatoes and black-eyed peas tasted surprisingly good all mixed together, she no longer had an appetite. Having to stare down the length of her dinner table at Uncle, who’d sat himself in Frank’s chair as if he owned it, was much different from seeing Edmund seated there. Downright turned her stomach.

  The children seemed to understand they wouldn’t use the talking feather tonight because the adults would lead the conversation. Eating quietly and with good manners, they didn’t tease each other, but maintained a proper interest in what was being said, just as they’d been taught. Uncle would find no cause to criticize them, at least at mealtime. At least not a valid cause.

  “You must tell us about your trip.” Lula May took care to speak in a well-modulated tone to avoid Uncle’s censure. According to what he’d always said, ladies never raised their voices.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” He broke a biscuit into his second bowl of stew and spooned some gravy over it from the tureen. From the gleam in his eyes, she could see he was still hungry and that he liked the stew. If he criticized it, she’d point that out to him.

  He launched into a spirited, lengthy account of his travels from Alabama to Texas. Lula May had to give him credit for being able to tell a story in an interesting way, something she’d never realized before this night. The children all listened wide-eyed at his description of his train crossing the Mississippi River on tracks built on a high trellis over the deep, flowing waters. Lula May barely remembered her own journey to Texas because she’d been so scared he’d be right behind her trying to drag her back to Alabama to marry his horrid old friend.

  As he spoke, however, she began to wonder whether he’d changed. Maybe he hadn’t come to destroy their lives. Then halfway into his disparaging descriptions of some of his fellow passengers, she saw glimpses of his old wiliness and realized he was doing just what he’d done with Amos Crenshaw at the train station. Charm them, win them, then take power over them. But with all of her insights, she had no idea how to keep her children from falling into his trap. Her only defense was to take charge before he did, so she stopped him at the end of a sentence as he paused to breathe.

  “We’ll have to hear the rest of your story another time.” She stood, and the children did likewise. “Chore time, then an early bedtime.”

  Unspoken questions hung in the air as the children cast bewildered glances her way. Even before Edmund started coming over, they’d always enjoyed their evenings in the parlor at the end of each day. But Lula May was not about to let Uncle get that cozy with her family, at least not on his first night here. Never, in fact, if she had anything to do with it. She gave the younger children a gentle flick of her hand, and they set about clearing the table.

  While Uncle had talked about his trip, she’d considered where to put him for the night. She’d thought about putting him in the room Frank had built in the barn for the occasional wandering cowboys needing a resting spot for a night or two. But she wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on Uncle if he was out there. Only one solution presented itself.

  “Calvin, Samuel, would you please move your things out to the barn? Uncle Floyd can use your room for the short time he’s here.”

  Before Uncle could contradict her words, her stepsons chorused their eagerness to go along with the plan.

  “We’ve been wanting to sleep out there,” Calvin said, “ever since the cattle rustling started.”

  “Yep.” Samuel have a decisive nod. “It’d be just like those snakes to steal our few head of cattle because they think we can’t defend ourselves.”

  Lula May’s heart twisted in two directions. She was proud of them for wanting to protect their property, but thinking of them in a shoot-out with rustlers sent a jolt of fear through her. “Never mind about that. Just get a move on so Uncle Floyd can settle in for the night. I’m sure he’s tired from his travels.”

  The boys hurried away like they were going to a picnic.

  “What’s this about cattle rustling?” Uncle Floyd gave her a long, narrow-eyed look, like he thought it was her fault.

  “Nothing to worry about.” Lula May gave an indifferent sniff. “The ranchers have formed a cattlemen’s association to put an end to it. They’ll be meeting tomorrow night.” Too much information! She needed to be more careful about what she said to him.

  Uncle puffed up like a bantam rooster. “Well, now, seems like I have arrived just in time to represent this paltry piece of property at that meeting.” He pulled a cigar from his jacket pocket. “Where did that husband of yours put his humidor? I need a light.”

  Lula May glared at him, something she’d refrained from when the children were present. “You’ll not be smoking that stinky cigar in my house.”

  He returned the glare, but put away the horrid brown roll. “Now, where is this meeting? I shall require your buggy to get there.”

  Lula May ground her teeth for a moment. “Not a good idea, Floyd. This meeting is by invitation only, and you’re not invited.” She wouldn’t mention that she almost hadn’t been included, either. “Something you ne
ed to know about these Texans is that they don’t like it when people push themselves in where they’re not welcomed.”

  “Humph. Seems like Southern hospitality does not extend to this wilderness, even if Texas did fight for the Confederacy.” He found his way into the parlor where he made himself at home in Frank’s chair and picked up a cattlemen’s journal. No doubt he’d try to pick up some local jargon so he could impress any ranchers he might meet.

  When the boys brought in his trunk, he didn’t make a move to help, just as Lula May expected. She left him in the parlor where he couldn’t get into any trouble...or do any snooping. Getting the sleeping arrangements organized and putting the younger children to bed took most of the evening. She sat at each of their bedsides to hear their prayers, ending with Pauline, who had slept with her since Frank’s death. Lula May made sure Uncle was fast asleep before she checked the safe and locked the office door.

  She lay awake for some time recounting the day’s happenings. A moment of delayed but quiet hysteria set in when she recalled almost being swept away in the flash flood. Not only had she forgotten to thank Edmund, she’d also forgotten to thank the Lord. Kneeling beside her bed, she wiped away tears of gratitude as she whispered her prayer. She climbed back into bed with three firm resolutions for tomorrow. She would somehow manage Uncle and keep him from harming her family. She would impress the men at the cattlemen’s meeting. And she would bake Edmund a lemon cake that he’d never forget.

  The next morning, Lula May wasn’t the least bit surprised when Uncle slept in, which pleased her no end because the family could return to its normal routine now that Jacob’s week at Edmund’s ranch had ended. The children seemed eager to finish their chores, and they kept returning to the kitchen where she had begun her baking and supper preparations. Maybe they hoped to see Uncle. She still hadn’t figured out a way to let them know he wasn’t to be trusted. Nor did she wish for them to be alone with him.

  With horses needing to be trained today, she decided to take the younger ones out to the pasture with her, but that would be later this morning. Maybe this evening they all could go to town and she could leave them with Mercy Green while she attended the cattlemen’s meeting. Anything to keep them away from Uncle when she couldn’t be present.

  After a trip to the garden to pull onions for tonight’s chicken supper, Lula May found all five children whispering and giggling in the kitchen.

  “What mischief are you all up to?” She hid a smile at their sudden silence.

  They traded looks and grins.

  “Nothing.” Samuel blinked his blue eyes, looking decidedly guilty.

  “Nothing,” chorused the others.

  “Uh-huh.” Lula May gave them each a stern look. “Looks like I need to put you all to work. Calvin, don’t you have some fencing to mend? That new barbed wire is in the barn.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He winked at the others and headed out the door.

  “The rest of you...” Lula May thought for a moment. “There’s a garden to weed, dogs and chickens to feed and horses to tend. Get busy.”

  They dashed away to obey just as Uncle wandered into the kitchen and looked expectantly at the stove.

  “Breakfast ready?” He coughed and wheezed and cleared his throat noisily.

  “That covered plate on the back of the stove is for you. Help yourself to coffee.”

  He frowned and grumbled something about having to serve himself, but Lula May continued mixing Edmund’s cake. A stray thought shot across her mind. Wouldn’t it be nice if Edmund were the man sitting down at her kitchen table instead of Uncle? Just as quick, she rejected the thought. No need to complicate her life by thinking of her handsome neighbor.

  After eating his eggs, bacon and biscuits, complaining all the time about how cold they were, Uncle sat back to sip his coffee. And to pester Lula May.

  “That bedroom is a might drafty. You need to get a man out here to fix it before the weather turns cold. I have rheumatism and cannot stand the cold like I used to.”

  “You won’t be here for the cold.” Lula May beat the cake batter with extra vigor.

  “That is what you think, girlie.” He spoke matter-of-factly, as though she had no say in his decision. “I sold my place back home and packed my meager belongings in that one trunk so I could be near my only living kin. ’Course those older boys are not my kin, but they will likely desert you when they are old enough to go it alone. And I have already seen how your real offspring need a man’s hand to guide them. No, missy, don’t be expecting me to run out on my duty to family like you did.”

  Lula May cringed. Should she throw him out now or let him finish his threats? After all these years, all of Frank’s kindnesses, all the respect Edmund had shown her, why did she have to struggle not to fall back into her old acquiescing ways?

  “I’m ashamed of you for not wearing widow’s weeds.” Uncle pulled out his cigar. “How long has that husband of yours been dead? Not even a year. You could at least wear a dress, as fitting a lady. I’m ashamed of you for dressing like a man.” He went to the stove and bent to light the cigar.

  Lula May stopped whipping her batter. “I told you don’t light that nasty thing in here.” If he did, she’d consider dumping the whole bowlful over his head.

  Grunting with disgust, he put it away and sat back down.

  “How did you find me, Floyd?” The question had nagged at her since his first letter arrived. “How did you know my husband died?”

  “I will never tell you that.” He chuckled in his unpleasant way. “Just know that some of your neighbors were glad to tell me all they knew about you...for a price.”

  An icy chill swept down Lula May’s back. Who would sell information about her? Who would hate her that much? Yet, as she rejected everyone she knew as the culprit, another thought took precedence. This was Uncle’s way of manipulating her: keep her from trusting her neighbors, make her fearful and alone and then take control of her life with the pretext of taking care of her.

  “Now about my mama’s necklace.” He took a long drink of his coffee. “I want to see it as soon as you get that cake in the oven. I am assuming it is a welcome cake for me.”

  “No and no.” Gulping down her fears and trepidation, Lula May poured the batter into two round tin pans she’d greased and floured. She set the bowl and spoon aside for the children to lick when they came back inside. “The cake is for a neighbor who did me a favor.” More than a favor. He’d saved her life!

  Another grunt of disgust. “Well, go get that necklace, then. I want to see how you have taken care of it after stealing it from me. Where on earth would you wear it around here anyway? While I waited so long for you at the train station, I did not even see a hotel where a ball could be held. And these ranch houses are nothing like the plantation house where I grew up. Do you wear it to church to show it off? To pretend to be some fine lady, which you are not?”

  Holding her temper as best she could, Lula May gently set the cake pans in the oven, closed the door and checked the fire.

  “Well, go get it.” Uncle poured himself another cup of coffee and then slammed the pot back down on the stove. If he did that again once her cake rose and made it fall, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions. “What are you waiting for?”

  She fisted her hands at her waist. Might as well get this over with. “I don’t have my mother’s necklace.”

  “What?” Uncle took a menacing step toward her.

  In the corner of her eye, she saw her rolling pin on the cabinet counter. If he hit her...

  “I don’t have my mother’s necklace. When Frank got sick, I sold it to pay bills.” She’d paid off the ranch and had managed to keep it going since then, with a little left over in the bank for a rainy day. But she wouldn’t tell him that.

  “Sold it?” He slumped back down onto the chair, and
his pasty face grew paler. “Sold it!”

  His pale blue eyes blazed, and he sputtered as if unable to think of words strong enough to condemn her. Finally, he sat back and a slow, evil grin spread across his face. “Well, well, now, how are you going to pay me back so I will not have to call the law on you? Hmm?” As though he’d planned it all along, he grunted with satisfaction in answer to his own question. “Why, I will just take this puny little farm off your hands. ’Course, those older boys will have to go, but if you are real good to me, you and those three brats of yours, I may just let you stay here and work it for me.”

  * * *

  Seated in his sparsely equipped kitchen, Edmund picked up the stale beef sandwich Mushy had sent over from the bunkhouse and bit into it. It was dry, as usual, but he might as well get used to it. The days of looking forward to Lula May’s fine cooking had come to an end.

  In spite of yesterday’s excitement during the storm, the ranch had seemed awful quiet these past few days. He missed those young’uns being here. Missed having supper at the Barlow ranch each evening. He’d tried to convince himself he was glad to go back to his silent, solitary meals, but it was no use. Not that he could do anything about it. Might as well finish his noon meal and get back out to the barn to mend those weakened stalls.

  Just as he set his plate and coffee cup into the sink, a knock sounded on the back door. Expecting to see one of his cowhands, he opened it.

  “Pauline!” He couldn’t keep the surprise and gladness from his voice. Behind the sweet little gal, who looked like a miniature version of her mama except for the child’s red hair, stood Jacob and Daniel. “What are you young’uns doing here?” He glanced out into the barnyard with the vague hope that Lula May would be with them...and tried not to show his disappointment that she wasn’t. All he saw was Jacob’s horse tied to the hitching rail. The three of them must have ridden over here together.

  “Mama thinks you need to work on your imagination.” Pauline held out a book. “This will help you.”