A Family for the Rancher

by Louise M. Gouge

  “The book?”

  “Mama, it’s my fault.” Pauline, ever the protector of her brothers, spoke up. Funny how she didn’t really look all that guilty, either. “We didn’t tell a lie. We said you said Mr. McKay needed to work on his imagination. We just repeated what we heard you say one night last week.” She glanced at each of her brothers. “And we wanted him to come back.”

  “We’ve missed him,” Daniel said.

  “It was nice having him here last night,” Jacob added.

  “That’s real sweet, my little honeys.” Their innocence touched a deep chord in Lula May’s heart, just as Calvin and Samuel had last night. They wouldn’t understand that it could look bad for her reputation if Edmund spent too much time here when everybody knew they weren’t courting. “But I’m afraid you can’t keep bothering the man. He has a ranch to run. Now he’s going to have all of you to watch out for next week when you go over there, so he probably has a lot of preparation for it.” She’d already decided to send Daniel along with Pauline and Jacob to keep him away from Uncle. If nothing else, Pauline could mind him as she did at home.

  “But he likes being here.” Jacob buttered a biscuit and spooned on some peach preserves.

  The other two nodded.

  “We’d like him to be here all the time,” said Pauline.

  Lula May gasped and then laughed. “He can’t be here all the time...”

  “He could if you two got married.” Jacob waggled his eyebrows at her.

  “What?” Lula May shook her head. “Why you little matchmakers. What am I going to do with you?” At least their mischief was out in the open now.

  They looked at each other and giggled.

  “Matchmakers. Is that what you call somebody who’s trying to get two stubborn people who like each other to get hitched?” Jacob giggled high and loud at his own joke, and the other two joined in noisily.

  “That’s not funny.” Lula May gave them each her darkest scolding scowl. “And you have to stop it. Mr. McKay is...”

  “But, Ma.” Now Pauline spoke in her serious grown-up tone, the one she used when trying to teach Daniel something. “You’re different since he started coming over. Happier. Not so...burdened.”

  Too stunned to reply, Lula May huffed out a breath. Did she appear “burdened” to her children? Was she truly happier when Edmund was here?

  “Yeah,” Daniel said. “So we want him to be around all the time.” He rubbed his thumb just below his lower lip as if tempted to put it in his mouth. Lula May’s heart dropped. He only sucked his thumb when he was troubled. “Especially since that old man showed up.”

  “Shh!” Pauline scolded. “He’ll hear you.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Lula May forced herself to speak, choosing her words carefully. “I know it’s hard having Uncle Floyd here. But you must behave with good manners around him, just as you do with Mr. McKay or any guest. Don’t ever let another person’s words or actions determine how you behave.” She thought for a moment. “And leave poor Mr. McKay alone. He likes living by himself. Otherwise he would have found a wife long ago.” Edmund didn’t act in the least interested in marriage. Not that she wanted him to. Not at all. So why did that simple truth send her heart plummeting? “Understand?”

  All three nodded solemnly. They finished breakfast in silence and then set about doing their chores. Lula May gathered the ingredients for the squash cake she was making for tomorrow’s Fourth of July celebration. Remembering Edmund’s comment about signing up to judge the cakes, her heart warmed. Of course he wouldn’t know which cake was hers because he hadn’t tasted this particular recipe. And she wasn’t about to cheat and tell him it was hers. But just maybe, he’d really like it. Oh, bother. Why did she keep thinking about pleasing that man?

  As she grated the fresh green squash from her garden into a bowl, she couldn’t help but be touched by the sweet concern of her children. Annoyed, too. In their innocence and their ignorance of the whole truth, they just wanted her to be happy. If Uncle proved his claims about the necklace and had her arrested, her children would be devastated.

  “Breakfast ready?” Uncle appeared in the doorway, his slicked-back hair and clean-shaven cheeks giving evidence that he’d used the pitcher of hot water she’d put in his room an hour ago.

  “Get yourself a cup of coffee, and I’ll fry you an egg.” Lula May couldn’t bring herself to smile, but she did manage a decent tone of voice to set an example for the children.

  “Aren’t you going to bring me coffee?” His voice was laced with sarcasm. “I have no doubt you would bring coffee to that cowboy if he was here.”

  “You—” Pauline stood at the sink with a wet dishrag in hand and fire in her eyes.

  “Pauline, take Daniel out to gather eggs. Jacob, go muck out the barn.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” All three hastened to obey while Lula May let out a quiet breath of relief. What had gotten into her daughter? Too much of her mother, that’s what. They’d have a talk about it later, no mistake.

  The moment the children were out the door, Uncle grabbed Lula May’s arm. “I never thought a niece of mine would show such a lack of moral character by taking up with a cowboy less than a year after your husband died. No wonder you don’t wear proper widow’s weeds. For shame.”

  “Let go of me.” Lula May jerked away. She still hadn’t figured out how he knew so much about her. Who among her friends would have informed him of when Frank died? She had no doubt he’d waited to come to Texas until then. Even at his sickest or with his last breath, Frank would have set this man straight.

  “You had better treat me right, girlie.” Uncle poured a cup of coffee and plopped down at the table. “You had better teach those brats to treat me right, too.” After a noisy slurp from his cup, he peered at the stove. “Make that four eggs. And heat up that bacon. I cannot abide congealed meat.”

  Lula May shook as she did his bidding, both from rage and fear. He could do as he wished to her, but the moment he set a hand on one of her children, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions in retaliation.

  “Now, it is time you quit shilly-shallying around. I want to see the deed to this farm, and I want to see it today. My lawyer is coming out next week to witness you signing this place over to me.”

  Lula May counted to ten. “It’s a ranch, Floyd.”

  “What?” His eyes blazed.

  “A ranch, not a farm. If you want your neighbors to respect you, to invite you to their ranchers’ meeting, you have to use the right words.” Before she could stop herself, she added, “And Mr. McKay is a rancher, not a cowboy.” She clenched her teeth to keep from adding that Edmund was one of the most successful ranchers in the area. No sense in Floyd knowing her neighbor was getting right close to what folks would call wealthy, at least in these parts. All the more reason for her children to quit their matchmaking. She’d rather die than have Edmund think she was after his money. However, Uncle would have no such compunctions.

  “Rancher, cowboy. What is the difference?” He wasn’t asking a question. “Now, girlie, I mean what I say. You sign this place over to me, or I will have you arrested for stealing my mama’s valuable necklace.”

  Lula May set his breakfast in front of him. “Four eggs over easy and hot bacon. Biscuits are in the basket.” She waved toward them. “Butter and jam right there.” She turned back toward the sink. With so much to do today, she needed to get that cake made. She took a step toward the cupboard to get out her crockery mixing bowl.

  Uncle stood, grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. “I mean what I say.”

  “Don’t you always, Floyd?” She resisted the urge to twist away from him. That would only bruise her wrist, which would worry the children. She couldn’t let Uncle get to her. Had to find a way out of this somehow.

  “By the by.” He thru
st her hand away and took on a milder tone, as if he hadn’t just threatened all she held dear. “Last night I looked all over this place and could not find anything decent to drink. Where did that husband of yours keep the good stuff?”

  So that explained why her secret sign was broken. Before she left for the ranchers’ meeting, she used flour glue to paste a tiny strip of dark paper to her office door, down close to the floor where it wouldn’t be noticed. Last night Calvin and Samuel must have been out doing chores when Uncle broke into the office. Picking the lock was the only way he could have achieved that, but she’d known him to pick a lock before. She’d have to check later to see what mischief he got up to. If he still wanted for her to show him the deed to the ranch, that meant he hadn’t found it in her secret hiding place.

  “My husband didn’t imbibe in spirits.” She lifted the mixing bowl down and took a wooden spoon from a drawer.

  “Not a real man, eh? Just like that cowboy neighbor of yours. Well, girlie, you sure know how to pick ’em, don’t you?”

  His words slammed into her, and for a moment, Lula May was thrust back into her childhood. Back then, according to Uncle, she’d never measured up to his vague and ever-changing standards about what a Southern girl, a Southern belle, should be. Nor had she ever owned anything he didn’t claim belonged to him. Even with Frank, she’d been second-rate, never measuring up to Emily’s perfection, although Frank had never said so.

  Trying hard to swallow her fear and self-doubt, she set the mixing bowl and bowl of grated squash toward the back of the counter. The cake would have to wait. Without a word, she retreated to her room and shut and locked the door. There, she knelt at her bedside. Or, rather, fell to her knees with emotional exhaustion.

  “Lord, I don’t know what to do. No matter how hard I’ve tried to keep things together, I’m about to lose everything I’ve worked for, including my children’s futures.” She’d managed everything while Frank was ill, even for all these many months since he died. Now Uncle was threatening, her children were taking matters into their own hands and she felt crushed. The final straw was Uncle making cruel remarks to her children, just as he used to do to her. How could she stop him? If he got angry enough, he’d simply cast her out, along with the children. “Please help me. Please help us all.”

  “Ma?” Calvin’s muted voice came through the door. “Mr. Bennett came to buy that horse. You want me to handle it?”

  Furiously brushing away her tears, Lula May got to her feet. “No. No. I’ll be right out.” A quick check in the mirror revealed her reddened complexion, always a bothersome reaction to her emotions. She splashed cool water from her pitcher onto her cheeks and eyes, dried them and hurried out the door.

  To her chagrin, Uncle followed her out to the barnyard. Would she never get rid of his intrusions into her life?

  “Hello, Mr. Bennett.” Lula May tilted her head toward Uncle. “This is Floyd Jones, my uncle.”

  “How do, Mr. Bennett.” Uncle reached out and glad-handed Lucas like a politician, even clapping him on the shoulder. Oddly, Lucas didn’t seem to mind. Usually, he held himself apart from other people even more than Edmund did. “Good to meet you.”

  “Good to meet you, too, Mr. Jones.” Lucas turned his attention to Lula May, and she could see his eyes were bloodshot. Poor man. He didn’t have many cowhands, and he probably stayed up all night watching his herd to keep away the cattle rustlers. He needed to attend the meetings and get help from his neighbors. “Mrs. Barlow, my old mare is about done for.” He nodded in the direction of his horse. Sure enough, the poor old girl obviously needed to be cooled down and put out to a shady pasture. “I’m ready to take that paint gelding.”

  Now she was in a quandary. Of course she wanted Lucas to take the horse, but when he paid her, Uncle might claim the money, which she needed badly for supplies and feed.

  “I’m sorry to say,” Lucas went on, “I don’t have the cash today, but I expect to have some by next week. Would that be all right?” He leaned one arm heavily on the corral railing.

  Strange relief filled Lula May. She needed that money, but it appeared she wouldn’t get it today either way. Maybe she could arrange to meet Lucas over at his house next week so she could be sure to hide the money from Uncle. Indecision briefly plagued her. That poor old brown mare looked like she’d been “rode hard and put away wet,” as the cowboys always said of an overworked horse. Lucas usually treated his animals better than that, but she could see the man was exhausted. Pity for both man and beast was the deciding factor.

  “Sure. No rush.” Lula May stuck out her hand. “It’s a deal.”

  Lucas’s hand felt like a limp fish in hers, another sign of his exhaustion. “Much obliged.”

  “You can leave your mare here for a rest over the weekend, if you like. I’ll bring her by your place on Monday and have a visit with Nancy.” Of course she’d see Nancy tomorrow and on Sunday, but taking the mare on Monday would give her an excuse to go to his ranch to get paid, not something she’d say in Uncle’s hearing. “Don’t forget to keep an eye on the paint’s nose. Don’t want him to get sunburned.” The pink nose was a characteristic of these horses, but a little care kept them from getting too much sun.

  “That’ll be fine.”

  While Calvin led the gelding out of the corral and gave it a quick brushing, Lucas removed his saddle from the mare to put on his new horse. Lucas turned to Uncle. “Good to meet you, Mr. Jones. Have a good day.”

  “You have a good day, too, Lucas.” Uncle waved as Lucas mounted up and rode away.

  In spite of the morning heat rolling over her, a violent shiver swept down Lula May’s back. She hadn’t said Lucas’s first name, had she? Yet Uncle addressed him that way. Had Calvin mentioned it to Uncle on his way to her room a while ago? Had anyone said his Christian name within Uncle’s hearing? Her breakfast threatened to come back up, but she swallowed hard and stiffened her spine.

  “That how you always do business, girlie? Letting a man ride away without paying?” Uncle gave her his usual sneer of disgust. “No wonder your little farm is in such trouble. Once it is mine, that will change.”

  “Calvin, pour some water over the mare to cool her down. I have cooking to do.” She marched away, praying her sneaky uncle hadn’t searched out all of her friends to somehow cause them injury. Nancy Bennett didn’t need any trouble, feeling poorly as she was these days. Yet if Lula May tried to investigate the matter, she might bring suspicion on herself. Although she was innocent of any wrongdoing, Uncle had a way of convincing people of anything he wanted them to believe.

  Lucas Bennett’s visit may have interrupted her prayer, but she’d start right now to pray without ceasing, as the Bible said. She should have been doing that all along.

  Chapter Ten

  “What do you mean this town has no saloon?” Lula May’s uncle sat on the bench in her wagon at the edge of the city park, an ugly scowl decorating his pasty round face.

  From Lula May’s curved shoulders as she took baskets from the back of the wagon, Edmund figured the old man had been browbeating her for some time. Time to step in and do the job the Lord gave him. He ambled over to them.

  “Howdy, Lula May, Floyd, young’uns.” He greeted each one with a nod, then gave Floyd Jones a lazy grin. “No need for a saloon in Little Horn. Folks around here know how to have a good time without that sort of thing.” He waved a hand toward the park, where the community had gathered to celebrate the Fourth of July. Banners decorated makeshift stalls, and the Stars and Stripes hung from every corner. “Horse races, three-legged races, cake walks, that sort of thing.”

  “Humph.” The old man climbed down, pulled out one of those foul cigars, clipped one end and lit up. The smell quickly filled the air like the stink of rancid meat. “I could show them a thing or two about having a good time.”

  No telling what Floy
d considered a good time, and Edmund wasn’t about to ask him. From the look in Lula May’s eyes, he figured she’d prefer his distracting Floyd instead of helping her. Besides, he didn’t want to accidentally see the cake she’d baked for the contest.

  “While Lula May and the children take care of their responsibilities, let me introduce you to some folks.” He hadn’t had a chance to warn anyone about Floyd, but his friends would take the man’s measure pretty quick.

  “Thank you.” Lula May gave him a tight smile before marching off with the children, each of them carrying a basket or box.

  Edmund did catch sight of yellow icing on a cake in one basket, which was half covered by a tea towel. He looked away and tried to forget the image. And hoped the cake would be mixed in with other yellow ones so he wouldn’t recognize it and favor Lula May in the judging.

  His mouth watered at the thought of that particular duty. How far he’d come from his days of eating leftovers and only rare desserts in his cousin’s kitchen. Now he had more than enough and to spare. And no one to share it with. Now where had that thought come from? Without thinking, he glanced toward Lula May and the young’uns traipsing across the park. No, his job wasn’t to share his life with them. It was to protect them. And that was that.

  “Come on, Floyd. I’ll introduce you to my brother.”

  “And just who is this brother of yours that I should want to meet him?” Floyd huffed a cloud of white smoke into Edmund’s face.

  Not many things riled Edmund, but the gesture was clearly meant to punctuate the insult about his brother. Only remembering his job to protect Lula May kept him from...well, he didn’t know what. But this little man sure did get Edmund’s dander up.

  He fanned away the smoke with his hand and caught a welcomed whiff of the side of beef roasting over an open pit across the park. “Josiah runs the lumber mill. He’s on Little Horn’s town committee.” Mischief nudged him to add, “I’ll go see if he has time to make your acquaintance.” He walked away from Floyd. Would the little man follow?