Mail-Order Brides of the West: Evie (McCutcheon)

by Caroline Fyffe

  Chance. My husband.

  Chance gently scooted her over in the bed, making room so he could lie down beside her. He took her in his arms, rested his cheek on her temple, stroked her hair. With one arm, he pulled the thick layers up over them both. Dexter whined, then placed his front paws on the bed, poking his head over to see what was wrong.

  Her panic dissolved and she snuggled in close, thankful it was only a dream. The dream. He felt good, smelled good, and his heart beating steadily under her ear reinforced her sense of protection. She considered the new feelings that lying so close to her husband produced. She dared to place her hand on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath he took.

  “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure,” was his soft reply.

  Dexter dropped down to the floor. He slowly wandered off into the dark house.

  She fiddled with one of his buttons. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

  “I’ve been awake for a while. Just lying here thinking.” He pulled her closer. “What were you dreaming about?”

  Evie shivered, not able yet to get the words past her lips.

  “Let me guess. A spider?”

  She nodded. “It’s always the same one.”

  “Well, thank goodness. I thought that scream was you realizing you’d gone and married me. Moved out to the backcountry.”

  She couldn’t stop a small giggle. “No, never that.” Feeling bold, she stroked his chest, his nightshirt soft under her fingertips. “When I was only a toddler, a huge black widow crawled into my hair during my nap. I was terrified! Everyone was terrified, screaming and running around. As hard as it is to believe, I still remember that horrible day!”

  Ummm. Chance’s chest rumbled. She liked it.

  “Look at the stars now, Evie.”

  Opening her eyes, she tilted her head so she could see the night sky through the open roof. As beautiful and dramatic as the stars had been earlier, their beauty now stole her breath. A vast sea of twinkling lights glittered across the expanse, she couldn’t believe how many. “Oh! I don’t even have any words to describe how beautiful such a sight is, or the magical feeling I have inside.”

  “I know what you mean.” His arms tightened around her. “You cold?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Evie, I’ve been wondering about something.”

  “Yes?”

  “The newspaper advertisement from the agency said I’d need to send a reference letter from our preacher. I thought I’d be asked for that in the first reply I got after I sent in my introduction letter, but that never happened. I just found it a mite strange, the ad saying something was required and then it’s never requested.”

  She swallowed, never taking her gaze from the stars. How she regretted her falsehoods. Things to hide from Chance. She wanted him to know everything about her, and love her no matter what. Even the fact she was only a maid, not a true mail-order bride. That she’d never known her father, that her mother had borne her in shame. How foolish she’d been not to tell him right away in her letters, the moment she’d stepped from the stage, at dinner her first night in town, or even the day of their wedding. She’d had plenty of opportunities. But I didn’t want him to know. Didn’t want to lose him. Now if he found out, he’d never understand her motivation. He’d think her a cheat and a liar all the days of their lives.

  “Evie?”

  “I don’t know. I guess your introduction was all the matron needed, so she handed your letter on to me.” Once the words were out, she buried her face in his chest, hot with shame.

  He stroked her hair. “Would you like me to light the lantern?”

  “No,” she whispered, thankful for the darkness that kept him from seeing her tears. “The night’s too beautiful. I want to enjoy this time for as long as possible.” She wished with all her heart she could change the course she’d taken. Her tears made the stars waver and dance before her eyes. She had no one to blame but herself. Her chest heavy with sorrow and guilt, she reached up and discreetly wiped her eyes.

  ***

  The sound of masculine voices brought Chance striding out of the barn, where he’d scooped each horse a can of oats. The morning sun had just crested the mountaintops. He’d left Evie still asleep, understandably worn out after the night they’d had. She’d about scared the life out of him when she let out the first blood-curdling shriek. That girl had a hefty fright of spiders. It was no joke. He’d best keep his eyes open and take care of any he saw, before she decided country living wasn’t for her.

  Chance lifted his hat and scratched his head as Luke, Matthew, Mark, Roady, and Francis rode up into his ranch yard, dismounted, and tied their horses to the hitching rail. Bringing up the rear was a wagon driven by Lucky. Faith and Amy waved from the seat next to the cook.

  Seemed he’d waited too long to take Evie out to the Heart of the Mountains Ranch, so they’d come to her. He glanced over at the house. Is she awake? Did she hear the commotion, too? He saw her peering through the beams of the house and frantically trying to calm her wild mass of golden hair. A chuckle rumbled up.

  He hurried over to the house as Evie stepped out on the porch, still rumpled from sleep but of composed demeanor.

  “What’s going on?” Chance asked, striding into the group of horses and men. They all shook hands in greeting.

  “You didn’t think we’d let you build the place all by yourself, did you? Especially after we found out what happened with the nails,” Roady answered, a big grin on his face. He actually laughed and slapped his leg. “You should’ve seen your face yesterday, Chance, when I said you had your work cut out for you. Man oh man, it was funny. Can you make it again for everyone to see?” He laughed with gusto.

  “Hush!” Chance tried to sound aggravated, but that was impossible. These were his friends and they’d come to help. All without his having to ask.

  “Morning, Mrs. Holcomb,” Matthew McCutcheon said. He touched the brim of his black hat. “You’re looking mighty pretty this fine day.” The others agreed. “Hope you don’t mind us barging in on you like this, but that’s how we do it out here in Montana. If Chance has a house to build, we’ll do it. Get ’er done in one day.” Again the men agreed. “Or as close as we can.”

  “Thank you,” Evie said, a blush creeping up her neck.

  When she looked his way, Chance shrugged. “I welcome the help, men. It’s good to see you all.”

  Mark began rolling his sleeves to his elbows, as did the rest of them. Luke helped the women out of the wagon. “Mrs. Holcomb,” he called. “I’d like you to meet my wife, Faith, and Mark’s wife, Amy.” He settled them on the ground. “Matt’s wife, her name is Rachel, is home minding our passel of children with the help of our housekeeper, Esperanza, and Esperanza’s niece.”

  By now, the women were up the stairs and gathered around Evie, smiling and giving her hugs.

  “We’re so happy to finally meet you,” Faith said, looking wholesome with her mahogany hair and bright blue dress. “Mr. and Mrs. McCutcheon, as well as Charity, my sister-in-law, are out of town. Hopefully you’ll meet them soon.”

  The sad feeling Chance used to get whenever Faith was close by didn’t materialize. He’d been sweet on her for years. The heaviness had lasted so long inside he didn’t think it was ever going to let go of him. But it finally had.

  Faith went on, “And we’re very sorry for barging in so early in the morning. The men just wouldn’t wait no matter how much I begged them. Totally rude to do to newlyweds.”

  Chance didn’t miss Evie’s cheeks darken. She looked down from the porch at him and smiled. A silly happiness squeezed his chest. Things did have a way of working out for the best.

  “But to make up for our charging in uninvited, we brought along enough breakfast and lunch for everyone. And maybe a few meals for later, too. A sort of ‘welcome to Y Knot’ celebration. Everyone wanted to cook or bake something to send.”

  As she talked, Francis lifted two sawhorses from th
e wagon and placed them under the oak tree. Setting a few boards across, they created a table. The women unloaded several wicker baskets, bulging with food, and carried them over.

  Evie looked overwhelmed. Chance wanted to help her, but didn’t know what to say. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t know how I can ever thank you.”

  Lucky limped over. “No need for thanks, missy. Chance is family. And now so are you.”

  Chance swallowed a lump of emotion. “Where’re Billy, Colton, and Adam? I’m surprised they aren’t here, too.”

  “Riding out in a while, after their chores are finished,” Luke said. “They were sore put out when we told them their chores came first.”

  Mark went to the wagon, reaching for a hammer. “Come on, men, get your tools and get to work. This house isn’t going to build itself.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  EVIE SAT on a blanket in the grass, feeling lonely. The sun was long since gone and an evening chill brought gooseflesh to her arms. Every time she thought of her new husband and the warm kisses they’d shared, sparks ignited in her belly, making her heart quicken and her fanciful imagination take wing.

  Today was the first time she’d stayed home alone. Over a week ago, when the McCutcheons, Francis, Lucky, Roady, and the women had come out to work, Luke had asked Chance to come over to their ranch to assist with the spring roundup. Chance had wanted her to come along, visit with the women, but she felt the need to prove to her husband that she was capable of doing things on her own.

  She’d swept and mopped the floor, plus washed the sheets, some of her underclothing, and several pairs of Chance’s thick denim pants. Ashes in the stove had accumulated, so she emptied those too. The fatigue in her arms and legs felt good. The pride she felt in a job well done—work that was sure to please her husband—was her reward.

  Finished, and with the day slipping away, she’d ventured out into the front pasture to watch for Chance and the herd. It wouldn’t be long before she’d spot the cattle making their way homeward in the fading light, a sight she was now completely used to, and loved.

  Dexter whined beside her, then burrowed down into the grass, the skunk smell now gone. “I miss him too, boy,” she said, scratching the dog behind the ears. “He’ll be home soon.”

  Surprisingly, she wasn’t frightened—at least not too much. She did feel small in the great spectacle of the far-reaching mountains, the huge sky, the vastness of the prairie. Cool puffs of evening air caressed her skin, and she wrapped her arms more tightly around her body. The soft hoo-hoo-hoo of a mourning dove calling to its mate soothed her nerves and brought a wistful longing to her soul.

  Since coming out to the ranch, Evie hadn’t had time to worry about Mrs. Seymour, the marshal, or anything else. Her life had taken on an essence of its own, and the days passed so quickly she wondered how it could be. The house and new friends filled her thoughts, but it was mostly Chance, and the approaching of the wedding-consummation deadline, that made her heart pound with excitement. Was he as anxious as she for them to solidify their union? If he was, he hadn’t made that fact known or pressed her in any way.

  She turned and looked at the house lit in the warm golden light of the disappearing sun. It was about the prettiest sight she’d ever seen.

  Faith and Amy had organized her kitchen with practiced ease, sharing with her reasons why each item belonged where they chose. She showed them the lovely crocheted doily and frying pan that Trudy had given her as wedding gifts. They shared a set of plates and service ware, some sturdy earthen mugs for coffee, and a set of beautiful cloth napkins along with some other knickknacks they had brought out with them. A beautiful white tablecloth looked charming on the sturdy table Chance had constructed.

  “They’re extras, just taking up space,” Faith had said about the expensive-looking dishes she’d carefully unwrapped. “It’ll be nice to have the extra room.” After that, she’d placed the set of folded napkins into the built-in pie shelf Roady had crafted on the eastern wall, her spirited expression just daring Evie to object.

  Evie’s chest warmed thinking about the two women. It had been a wonderful day, and the overladen food baskets they’d left behind had kept Chance from learning about her ineptness as a cook.

  It was amazing how fast the men had worked. By the end of the day the house had been finished, including a rock hearth and fireplace. The roof was on, windows and doors set. Taking up the entire far corner of her kitchen was a Glenwood “K” open base range with oven, hot water reservoir on the right side, and a heating oven on top. Chance had it stored away in the barn as a surprise. Faith and Amy were smitten with the fancy appliance. They oohed and aahed so much that Luke and Mark had finally taken offense, asking what was wrong with the ovens they had. Every day since, she’d used it to warm the house and the leftovers in speedy comfort and ease.

  Dexter jumped to his feet and barked, spotting the cattle coming through the trees and slowly making their way home.

  “Shhh, boy,” she said, after he barked several times. “No need alerting every living creature within a mile.” She’d heard the stories about Indians, the Cheyenne of Montana and Wyoming. Most were on reservations, but some still lived hidden away in the mountains, unwilling to submit and be kept by the white man. Chance had assured her several times that there weren’t any troublemakers in this part of the country. None at least that he knew about.

  As she watched the herd slowly making its way up the trail, she worried how she was going to learn how to bake and cook. She wanted desperately to make Chance proud of her. She especially longed to make him a birthday cake, one like Mrs. Klinkner had been baking the day of her visit. His birthday would be here before she knew it. She needed to find a way to get over to Ina’s house.

  A long whistle brought Dexter around. Before she knew what he was up to, the dog bolted for the road where she saw Chance loping in her direction. She stood, adjusting the folds of her skirt. A longing deep inside pulled at her thoughts, her heart. She ached to be one with him, and yet the thought frightened her, too.

  He reined up and dismounted. “Evie.”

  All of a sudden, it seemed the cat had her tongue, her nerve, and everything else.

  He removed his hat and pushed back his hair, rolling his shoulders as if to relieve tension. “If I weren’t so dirty, I’d give you a hug.”

  Grime covered his leather chaps. His shirt was dusty. Boston’s head drooped, his neck and hips smelling of warm, sweaty horseflesh. “It was a long day. I’m especially glad now you weren’t there.”

  His eyes said he wanted her. He took a small step forward, then bent down and brushed her lips briefly. Had he missed her as she had him? A smile played around his mouth. “How are you? Your day went well?”

  “It did. Dexter kept me company the whole time.” At the mention of his name, the dog tipped his head and wagged his tail.

  Chance picked up her blanket from its spot on the ground and tossed it over his saddle, then started toward the ranch house. “That’s good. After I was finished at the McCutcheons I went into town, picked up a few things. Fancy Aubrey said to tell you hello.” He smiled again. “As well as Ina. She asked about you, wants me to bring you for a visit.” He paused, looking out at the pasture where she’d been waiting for him. “What are you doing way out there in the grass anyway? I’m surprised.”

  She pointed out toward the cattle coming in their single line, all the while wondering where he’d seen Fancy. “Waiting for them to come home. It felt quiet without you.”

  “No spiders in the grass?”

  She shook her head. “That’s why I brought the blanket.”

  He slung his arm over her shoulders as they walked, keeping his clothes from touching her dress. So natural, it was as if they’d been man and wife for years.

  “I have something for you.”

  When she glanced up, he took a letter from his pocket. “Arrived yesterday at the store. From your friend in St. Louis.”

  �
�Trudy! So soon!”

  She took the letter and lovingly turned the envelope over, examining every inch.

  “Aren’t you going to open it?”

  She shrugged.

  “Women,” he stated, and then chuckled.

  They were in front of the house, and she was torn by the need to run inside and read the letter, or walk to the barn and watch him unsaddle his horse. He must have seen her indecision.

  “You go on inside while I take care of Boston. I’ll be in shortly. After supper, we’ll walk out and check to see if there were any more calves born today.”

  “You sure?” She hesitated. She’d spent time watching him care for the stock. He seemed to enjoy her company. “I’ve gotten pretty friendly with the horses in the paddock. Skip lets me stroke his nose from my side of the fence and Roan comes when I call.” She glanced over to find the two horses looking expectantly their way.

  “Go on now before I change my mind.” He gestured to the envelope she had clutched next to her heart. “I can see this means a lot to you.”

  Nodding, she turned, then gathered her dress.

  “Oh, would you mind heating some water on the stove? I’m in desperate need of a bath.”

  “I’ve already done that. It’s ready when you are.”

  At his astonished look, she hurried up the steps and into the warm house, which smelled of the last of the stew from Faith and Amy that was warming on the stove. Before opening the letter, she stoked the fire and glanced around, making sure everything was perfect. She lit the lantern in the middle of the table, sending a cheery light into the room.

  How easy it was to keep this place tidy. So different from Mrs. Seymour’s gigantic Victorian, and only the two of them to pick up after. She hurried to the bedroom, making sure she’d tucked away her feather duster. Every time she used it, she thought of Mrs. Seymour and felt a twinge of sadness.

  Satisfied with everything, she lowered herself into a kitchen chair. With trembling hands, she carefully opened the envelope.