A Family for the Rancher

by Louise M. Gouge

  Edmund laughed out loud. One of their disagreements had been about an idea of hers that he said was impractical, the one about the cattlemen’s association gathering food for the less fortunate in the community. He’d countered that the project was more suited to the ladies’ quilting bee. To his surprise, she’d agreed. It was the first debate with her that he’d won. And yet here she’d sent him a book to stir up his imagination.

  “Why, thank you, young lady.”

  Edmund took the volume in hand and read the title: Robinson Crusoe. Had Lula May noticed the time he’d looked at her library and thought he’d focused on this one? His hopes of discussing books with her hadn’t been realized or she would know he already owned a copy of it, along with a substantial collection of other titles, some of which she didn’t appear to own. What he really wanted to borrow was her A Tale of Two Cities.

  Before he returned the book to Pauline, he had an idea. Maybe this was Lula May’s way of inviting him back over to her place. In response to her challenge to his imagination, he would dig out his copy of the pamphlet Common Sense, tuck it inside the book, and take it over to her this afternoon, then ask if he could borrow the Dickens book. Maybe she’d invite him to stay for supper and they could go to the cattlemen’s association meeting together. He’d feel better knowing she wasn’t traveling back home alone after dark.

  No, that might not work. He recalled the man who’d been in the wagon with Lula May last evening. He didn’t want to seem nosy, and he sure didn’t want her or these children to know he’d hidden from view as they passed by. He still felt awful foolish for that. If he hadn’t ducked behind that stand of trees, he’d already know who the man was.

  “How’s your ma?” Had she told them about the flash flood? Had she recovered from the near tragedy?

  “She’s fine.” Jacob stepped up beside his sister, followed by little Daniel. “You need anything done around here?” He inspected the front of the barn like he felt responsible for it.

  Edmund coughed to hide a laugh. These young’uns sure did keep on surprising him. “No, thank you, son. My cowhands pretty much have it under control.” He glanced back into the kitchen where a plate of Mushy’s molasses cookies sat on the table. They were among the few tasty things his cook made.

  “You all want some cookies?” He’d gladly sacrifice the treat to find out what he wanted to know, despite feeling sneaky for doing it.

  “Sure.”

  “Yessir.”

  “Uh-huh.” They spoke at the same time, and their faces lit up in anticipation.

  Edmund had them sit on the back stoop while he fetched the plate, then let them dig in while he went back for a pitcher of milk from his icebox and some tin cups. Nothing in his house resembled the pretty china Lula May had, but the children didn’t seem to mind.

  While they enjoyed their treat, he tried again to find out about that stranger. “What are your mama and brothers doing today?” He sat down beside them with his long legs stuck out uncomfortably in front of him.

  “Ma and Samuel are working with some of the cow ponies,” Jacob said. “We were gonna help her, but she said we were more trouble than help so—”

  For some odd reason, Pauline punched her brother’s arm. “So this was a good time for us to bring you the book.”

  Daniel clearly didn’t want to be left out of the conversation. “Calvin’s out working on that broken fence between our property and yours.”

  “Hmm.” Was it only a week and a day ago when Lula May had been insulted by his comments about that fence? No matter. He still wasn’t finding out what he wanted to know. Being a loner all his life, a very private person who shielded himself from anyone who tried to pry into his life, he hadn’t figured out the subtleties of drawing from other people information that bordered on being downright nosy.

  “We have company.” Daniel, whose lips had cookie crumbs and milk all over them, blinked innocently. “He’s our uncle.”

  Relief swept through Edmund like yesterday’s flash flood had swept down that arroyo. Confusion followed right behind. He had no claim on Lula May. She could entertain whomever she pleased, and it was none of his business. Still—

  “Uncle, huh?” Edmund munched one of the cookies to keep from grinning. Then he sobered. Lula May had been reluctant to talk about her past. She’d leaned away from her uncle in the wagon. Was this visit good for her or nothing but trouble? Edmund sure wouldn’t want his unpleasant cousin to show up at the ranch after all these years.

  “I don’t like him.” Daniel, finished with his treats, stuck his thumb in his mouth and frowned.

  “Daniel!” Pauline nudged her younger brother. She sure did keep watch on what her brothers said.

  Edmund had to hide another laugh. He’d only spent six evenings with these children, yet he felt like he’d known them all their young lives. Then an odd little prickle crept up his neck, reminding him of some suspicions he’d had last week. Were these little rascals matchmaking? Had Lula May really sent the book over, or was this a scheme the children had come up with to get them together? Surely not.

  Daniel lifted his chin and glared at his sister. “Well, I don’t like him. He makes Mama unhappy.”

  Pauline bit her lower lip and looked down at her hands. Jacob stared out toward the corral.

  “We’d better be going.” Jacob stood and brushed his hands across his trousers. “Thank you for the cookies.” Like the man he was becoming, he reached out to shake Edmund’s hand.

  Edmund responded in kind. “Tell your ma thanks for the book.”

  He wouldn’t let on that he planned to go over to their place later. Whether they were matchmaking or not, Daniel’s innocent confession about not liking their uncle reminded him that the Lord still wanted him to keep watch on Lula May and her children. Whether she invited him to supper or not, he’d invite her to travel with him to the cattlemen’s meeting tonight and on the way try to find out more about the uncle. In fact, maybe her sending the book to him was a silent cry for help. Or not.

  Just like Old Gad had always told him, women were hard to figure out, and Lula May Barlow was one of the most confusing of all. If she said everything was “just fine,” he’d know she was in trouble. And whether she liked it or not, he’d find a way to help her.

  An hour later, after giving orders to Abel for the afternoon, Edmund headed toward the Barlow place. If Zephyr’s prancing gait was any indication, the stallion seemed as happy as he was. Edmund came up with an idea for what was pulling his mount in that direction: Lula May’s fine brown mare. Not that the two Barlow stallions would approve of his horning in on their herd, but at least Zephyr’s behavior now made sense.

  Halfway between their two properties, he spied Calvin out in the pasture working on the fence, just as Daniel said. A quick glance made it clear the boy was having trouble pulling the new barbed wire between two fence posts. Zephyr didn’t like it much when Edmund reined him in that direction, but Calvin’s face lit up in a Texas-sized smile.

  “Hey, Mr. McKay.” He let go of the wire and wiped his sleeve over his sweat-drenched forehead. “How you doing today?”

  “Fair to middlin’.” Edmund glanced around the scene. “Need some help?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to take them back. Even a man as young as Calvin had his pride. “Looks like you’re doing a fine job, but I could help you get it done faster so we can both get out of this heat.”

  “I’d be much obliged, Mr. McKay.” Calvin huffed out a breath. “This is the first time I’ve done this without either Pa or Ma.”

  “Your ma works on the fences?” Edmund dismounted and retrieved his leather gloves from his saddlebags.

  “Sure. Ain’t any man’s work she ain’t done these past three years.” Calvin winced slightly. “Shouldn’t have said that. Don’t tell her I told you.”

 
“All right. I won’t tell her you said ‘ain’t.’” Edmund chuckled as he grabbed the line of wire Calvin had dropped and pulled it to the nearest fence post.

  Grinning his appreciation, Calvin hammered a nail into place and bent it around the wire to secure it. “Thank you, sir. It’s sure easier when two men do it.”

  “You’ve done a fine job of setting these new fence posts.” Edmund gripped the nearest post and tried to jiggle it. It didn’t budge. “Now let’s get the rest of this wire strung.”

  They quickly fell into a rhythm as they attached three rows of wire down the line of posts. No words were needed, and neither one seemed inclined to break the silence. For Edmund’s part, he had a lot to think on after Calvin’s comment about Lula May.

  All the time Frank was sick, they’d never asked for a lick of help, so he’d assumed they were getting along all right. To his shame, he’d never come over to ask. So much for his pride over being a loner, because by protecting his own privacy, he’d let his neighbors down in a big way. And all that time, Lula May had to work like a man. Yet look how well she’d done. Even with losing Frank, she’d made that ranch work. Edmund’s respect and appreciation for her shot up about a mile. What a woman!

  When they reached the first of the older posts that didn’t need to be replaced, they used pliers to twist the old and new wire together.

  “That ought to do it.” Despite his words, Calvin studied his work, checking a few places to be sure they were secure.

  Edmund clapped him on the shoulder. “Good job.”

  “You thirsty?” Calvin waved toward the wagon. “I got a crock of fresh-pumped water over there. It’s probably warm, but it’s wet.”

  They sank to the ground in the shade of the wagon to rest a bit and take a refreshing drink. Calvin stared off into the afternoon sky, where the few white clouds seemed to indicate there’d be no storm today.

  “Mr. McKay, can I ask you something?”

  Edmund felt a moment of nostalgia. He used to start every question to Old Gad, “Can I ask you something?” Old Gad would say...

  “You may ask. Don’t know if I can help you, but I’ll try.” Edmund lifted the dipper to his lips for another sip of water.

  Calvin grinned, then got serious. “Do you know much about women?”

  Edmund spewed the water all over his trousers. “Women?” An ache grew in his chest. The Barlow boys could learn everything about ranching from their ma, but they wouldn’t have a man to teach them about courting or how to be good husbands. Not that he knew how to do either, of course. Old Gad hadn’t taught him those skills. “Why would you ask a confirmed bachelor about women?”

  Calvin stared at him for a moment, then gave him a sheepish look. “I see what you mean.”

  Edmund laughed. “Go ahead, son. Ask the question. Maybe we can figure it out together.”

  “I’ve got this girl...well, she isn’t my girl, but I’d like for her to be.”

  “Daisy Carson.” Edmund had seen them at church several Sundays. Daisy was a pretty little thing, but she appeared to have a temper.

  “Yessir.” Calvin stared off like a moon-eyed calf. “She’s just about the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” His expression grew sorrowful. “We were friends growing up, and I thought we still were, but lately she gets mad at everything I do or say.” He settled a sober look on Edmund. “What’s a man supposed to do if he wants to court a woman? What would you do? That is, if you weren’t a confirmed bachelor?”

  “Huh. Can’t really say.” Edmund took another drink of water to give himself time to think. Daisy sounded an awful lot like Lula May, getting mad at any random thing Edmund said. “I expect if the time came...that is...if I unconfirmed my bachelor status—” he grinned at Calvin, who chuckled “—I’d figure something out.”

  Now Calvin laughed out loud. “Thanks. You’re a real help.” He stood and brushed dust from his trousers. “And if I figure out what to do, I’ll tell you so you can follow my lead. Agreed?” He held out his hand.

  Edmund gripped it and let the boy pull him to his feet. “Agreed.” Then, for a brief moment, he suspected...feared...that Calvin was in on the apparent matchmaking scheme of his sister and brothers. If the older boys were in on it, that meant real trouble. Well, Edmund wasn’t having any of it. He’d take that book back to Lula May and then make himself scarce.

  Yet he had to confess he felt a kinship with Calvin, just as earlier he’d felt like he’d known the little ones all their short lives. And he couldn’t forget the enjoyable discussions and arguments he’d had with their ma. A man could get used to that.

  Oh, no. He was in trouble, and he had no idea how to get himself out of it.

  Chapter Eight

  Hearing the rumble of heavy wheels, Lula May looked up from thinning carrots in her kitchen garden and saw Edmund trailing behind the wagon as Calvin drove it into the barnyard. Her heart jumped. What on earth could he want? It was too early to go to the ranchers’ meeting, so he couldn’t be here to ask if she’d like to travel to town with him. Not that he’d promised to... Not that she didn’t want him to...

  Calvin waved as he drove past her toward the barn.

  “Howdy.” Edmund also lifted his hand in greeting.

  “Hello.” She stood and rested her hands against her aching back. Training those cow ponies this afternoon had worn her out. “What brings you this way?”

  “Just wanted to return your book.”

  Book?

  Edmund dismounted and tied his horse to the hitching rail—odd, since he usually ground-tied the stallion. He pulled a familiar-looking book from his saddlebag and held it out to her. “I appreciate your sending it over, but as it turns out, I have Robinson Crusoe myself.” He gave her that attractive crooked grin of his, and her heart tumbled in the most annoying way. “So I thought I’d stop by your lending library and trade it for A Tale of Two Cities.”

  “Sending it over?” In the corner of her eye, Lula May saw her younger children slinking out of the barn. She gave them a quick study.

  Daniel had dark crumbs next to his lips, and all three wore slightly guilty looks on their faces. So that’s why they’d made such nuisances of themselves out at the pasture. They wanted her to send them off to play so they could take the book to Edmund. And she knew exactly why. Those little rascals were full-out matchmaking! She’d take them to task later. Right now, she had to head off any misunderstanding between Edmund and her without letting on that they planned this bit of mischief. “You’re welcome to borrow any of my books. I didn’t know you were a reader.”

  He gave her an odd look, then shrugged. “Yep. I have a number of books myself. We’ll have to compare our libraries. Maybe trade ones we haven’t read.”

  “Maybe.” Lula May bent down and gathered the baby carrots she’d thinned out and plopped them into her wicker basket. “Pauline, Daniel, get these washed and cut for supper.” She gave them a meaningful look to let them know she’d figured out what they’d done.

  “Yes, ma’am,” they chorused as each one grabbed a basket handle and hurried toward the house...giggling.

  She wouldn’t worry about them running into Uncle because he was down for a nap after a hard day of doing nothing. Casting a look at Edmund, she faced the inevitable, which wasn’t really all that bad. “Will you come in for coffee?”

  He tilted his hat back to reveal his broad forehead, where dark blond curls clustered and made him look younger than his thirty-three years. “Coffee would be good.”

  “Jacob, you have stalls to muck out.”

  “But—”

  She cut him off with a wave of her hand and a sharp command. “Go help your brothers in the barn.”

  “Yessum.” Grinning, he scampered off to obey.

  Lula May shook her head. Just over a week ago, h
e would have cringed if she’d used that tone of voice. While his actions had been pure mischief, she couldn’t help but be pleased with his newfound spirit and gumption. All thanks to this man who stood in front of her looking bemused.

  She shook her head again. “Sometimes I don’t know what to do with them.”

  He laughed in that chest-deep way of his, and her heart did another bothersome somersault.

  After a quick handwashing at the outdoor pump, Lula May led him in through the back door. To her horror, Uncle sat at the kitchen table hungrily eyeing the cake she’d made for Edmund...and almost forgot about. Now she’d have no excuse for not introducing them before she figured out how to get rid of Floyd.

  “Edmund, this is Floyd Jones.” She forced herself to add, “My uncle. Floyd, this is my neighbor, Edmund McKay.” She knew very well that manners dictated presenting the younger person to the older one, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it because it gave Uncle a place of honor he didn’t deserve. He’d no doubt scold her later, but she didn’t care.

  Uncle also lacked proper manners in that he didn’t stand to greet Edmund. Still, Edmund reached out to shake his hand. Uncle managed to respond in kind to that.

  “Have a seat.” Lula May waved Edmund to a chair across from Uncle. So much for a nice chat about books with her neighbor. “Would you like some cake?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “I’ve been waiting for you to offer me some.” Uncle made it sound like she’d somehow neglected him. Or made the cake for him. At least he hadn’t helped himself. Probably because he wanted to be served.

  Over at the sink, Pauline pumped water into a pan while she and Daniel kept an eye on the grown-ups and giggled.

  “Children.” She gave them her best scolding look, and they puckered away their grins.

  “Well, Mr. McKay,” Uncle said. “What brings you over to our house today?”

  Edmund gave Lula May a quick look. To his credit, he wasn’t thrown by Uncle’s proprietary claims. “I came to return a book, to borrow another and to ask Lula May if she’d ride with me to the cattlemen’s meeting tonight.” He gave her another look and the tiniest nod. Did he see through Uncle already?