“Is that a…” Hattie couldn’t find the words, her blue eyes wide as saucers as she approached the new stove.
Daisy watched in silence as Hattie looked it over from top to bottom, holding out her hands to capture the fire’s warmth. She waited until Hattie opened the oven door and sent the smell of rising cinnamon rolls swirling through the cabin.
“The Chances had it shipped to Kentucky from clear across the country,” Daisy explained. “Bryce fetched it and hauled it back here while you were gone.”
“It’s wonderful,” Hattie breathed, her eyes shining. “It looks complicated, though. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”
Daisy couldn’t hold back the laughter that welled up at Hattie’s innocent statement.
“What’s got you laughing so hard, Daisy?” Logan asked as he and Bryce came inside.
Daisy couldn’t catch her breath enough to repeat Hattie’s words.
“I don’t know.” Hattie shook her head in confusion. “I just told her I hoped they didn’t have to go to too much trouble to bring in the new stove.”
Daisy almost had the spurts of laughter under control when Bryce’s deep chuckles made her lose her composure again. They were the only ones who knew just how funny it was.
“I don’t get it.” Logan shrugged and walked over to inspect the stove. “Hey, are those pie tins under there?”
Daisy and Bryce just shook their heads and laughed harder as Miz Willow took over.
“What of it? I cain’t think of a better place for a pie tin than the hearth!”
“How was yore honeymoon, Hattie?” Daisy asked after the men had finished breakfast and gone off to do chores. She shifted Jamie to her other hip. He was getting big.
“Wonderful!” Hattie’s one-word answer said it all. Logan treated her right, and she was happy with the life she’d chosen.
“Good.” Daisy stopped as Hattie stooped to harvest some leaves for her medicine satchel. “Meet anyone interestin’?”
“Yes. Jack Tarhill is a real sharp businessman with a good eye for detail.” Hattie stopped talking and looked Daisy in the eye. “He noticed the new lace collar on my green dress and asked where I’d purchased it.”
“That’s nice.” Daisy enjoyed hearing that such an astute man would remark on the quality of her work.
“Daisy, I know you’ve been doing business with Mitch Flaggart for years, but Jack asked me to try and change yore mind.” Hattie waited for a response.
“I’ve relied on Mitch since I was jist a girl and Mama traded her lace with him.” The lessons on making lace were some of Daisy’s fondest memories of her mother. She loved it when the two of them sat quietly, needles moving rhythmically as they created something beautiful.
“Yep. But he’s getting on in years, Daisy.” Hattie paused, and Daisy nodded to acknowledge it was harder for Mitch to make the trip to Hawk’s Fall—and would be harder still to get to Salt Lick. “And the fact of the matter is, Jack reckons he cain get a fine price for yore work.”
The figure Hattie quoted stopped Daisy in her tracks. So much money. I cain’t cipher, but even I cain tell the difference is impressive. I hate to leave Mitch in the lurch, but I have to do what’s best for Jamie and me.
“He knows I work collars and veils and table runners—not christening gowns or hoods?” Daisy had to make sure the market was right. Filet Lacis, while stunningly intricate, wasn’t pliable enough to use for those things. Tatted lace worked well, but Daisy didn’t know that method.
“I tole him as much,” Hattie affirmed. “He says it’s hard to find yore fancy handmade lace here in the States. Iff ’n yore agreeable, he won’t have to pay such hefty trading taxes, so you’ll both come off well.”
“That’s good.” Daisy nodded as much to herself as to Hattie and absentmindedly stroked Jamie’s hair.
“He said summat about how yore lace is different than even the stuff he ships over. Summat about it going the other way?” Hattie puzzled aloud.
“I do it backward on account of bein’ left-handed.” Daisy smiled. She’d practiced enough with Mama to do it with her right, but she worked so much faster using her left.
“He says as how that makes it more rare.” Hattie smiled.
“I suppose it might be so, but plenty of other thangs are more precious,” Daisy said. “Thangs like family and friends.”
“What’ve you decided to do about your share of Chance Ranch?” Bryce asked Logan as they mucked out the stalls later that morning. Each of the six brothers held equal stake, and Logan was owed his due even though he didn’t plan to return.
“I telegraphed with Gideon and Paul while I was in Louisville,” Logan admitted. “We’re thinking the best thing to do is buy me out. I’ll take a few of the horses and a few head of cattle. Whatever my share of land and other livestock amounts to, I’ll take half the money value of what I’d get after taxes if we were selling it all outright.”
“Only half?” Bryce echoed. “You’re entitled to all of your portion, Logan.”
“I know, but I’m not going to be around to work it. Besides, I’m the youngest, so we all know there was some time when I didn’t pull enough weight for the equal split.” Logan grinned happily. “Truth is, I’ve got the business started up right here, and Hattie and I won’t hurt for money. We have land, friends, steady income, and purpose. She’s the healer, keeps the bodies around here hale and hearty. I negotiate trades and keep their finances healthy. That’s more’n enough for any man.”
“I understand.” Bryce thought of all the new Chance children. The next generation would be much bigger than the six brothers who started out at Chance Ranch. They’d decided long ago that, regardless of how many children each brother had, the land would be redivided equally among their progeny when the time came ripe. Every Chance son and daughter would hold equal stake once more. Logan wouldn’t have any children, so it made sense to let his brothers buy him out.
“I can’t believe I’ll be going back without you.” Bryce spoke gruffly, slapping his brother on the shoulder. “Things just won’t be the same.”
“When things stay the same,” Logan mused, “it means you’re not growing. I hope Chance Ranch keeps on growing. I know I can depend on you to take care of things.”
When did my baby brother become so serious and grown-up? He’s a man now with a wife and a business. Logan’s found his place and his purpose. I always figured mine was Chance Ranch, but I thought the same for Logan and was wrong.
Bryce saw Daisy walking with Hattie across the yard. Seeing Daisy tugs something in me, especially when I think of leaving and never seeing her or Jamie again. Could those be growing pains?
“Pretty, isn’t she?” Logan had followed his gaze.
“Absolutely,” Bryce agreed so fervently that Logan looked at him askance.
“She is my wife, Bryce.” A steely glint lit Logan’s eye as he planted his feet a bit wider.
“And I’m happy for you.” Bryce tried to calm Logan down. “But there’s nothing more beautiful than seeing women playing with a child.”
Logan looked again toward the women, where Daisy held a squirming Jamie as Hattie tickled him. “It’s a fine sight.” Logan relaxed as he said the words. “But all the same, I’m happy to have Hattie all to myself.”
“So I noticed,” Bryce teased his brother with a grin. But I can’t imagine Daisy without Jamie. He brings out the loving mother, the strong lioness, the laughing girl, and the gentle homemaker in her. Jamie’s a great kid, and he makes Daisy a better woman.
“How much wood did you get cut while we were gone?” Logan’s question snapped Bryce back to their conversation.
“About that…” Bryce launched into a shortened version of how the stove monopolized their week. “Between moving and setting up the stove and repairing the doorframe, I didn’t get so much as a full cord cut.”
“So that’s why you and Daisy couldn’t stop laughing this morning,” Logan reasoned with a big grin. “I can’t b
elieve one little stove made you go through all that hassle.”
“Little?” Bryce drew himself to his full height and jabbed a finger at his brother’s chest. “Why don’t you go try to haul that thing around?”
“Sorry!” Logan put his hands in the air. “It is pretty big.”
“And heavy,” Bryce added. “Thing’s made of solid cast iron all welded together.”
“Hmm. I wondered how it managed to survive all you put it through!” Logan laughed and slapped his hand on his knee. “Come on, let’s go get to work. Aside from the wood chopping, I’ve been thinking we need to build a second barn. If I’m going to transport those horses and cattle here from Chance Ranch, Miz Willow’s barn can’t hold them, and they won’t survive the winter.”
“Right.” Bryce frowned at the thought of any domesticated animal left out to contend with the snowy chill of an Appalachian winter. “Any other work you want to get out of me?”
“I don’t know.” Logan pretended to give the matter serious thought. “Cabin, chopped wood for winter, impossible stove installation, new barn. Nope. That’s it, but I’ll let you know if I think of anything else!”
Chapter 11
T hunk. Thunk. Clunk. Bryce grinned at Jamie’s efforts. The night before, Bryce had cranked the hand-held drill to force peg-sized holes through a small piece of wood. He filled the holes with pegs, only a single whack apiece, so they stuck up and needed to be driven in. Today he’d balanced the board on two bricks, sat Jamie down in front of it with a small wooden mallet, and showed him what to do.
The little boy had been banging with plenty of enthusiasm—if precious little accuracy—ever since. Jamie liked being outside, doing “man” work with them. The mallet clattered from his little hands to the opposite side of the makeshift worktable. Bryce put down the ax he’d been using to chop firewood and loped over to put the tool back in Jamie’s hands.
“Tanks, Byce.” The little boy beamed at him before holding the mallet with both hands and pummeling the wooden peg. The exercise was good to increase his arm strength and improve coordination.
“You’re welcome, buddy.” Bryce looked down. “You’ve already finished two of them? Good job, Jamie!”
“Fun.” Jamie waved the mallet exuberantly before losing hold of it again.
“Hold on there.” Bryce took the small tool. “I’ll be right back.” He made his way to the barn and grabbed the drill. The mallet’s handle was small, so it didn’t take long to make a hole through the end. Bryce grabbed some twine and headed back to Jamie.
“Here.” He knotted the twine through the new hole, then looped the other end around Jamie’s wrist. “Now you’ll be able to get it whenever it jumps out of your hands. Mallets are tricky that way.”
“Yes.” Jamie nodded seriously. He dropped the wooden hammer over the side of the board, then pulled it back using the twine. “Wurks!” He beamed and began thunking at the pegs again. After a few clumsy swipes, he managed to knock one of the pegs farther in.
“Looks like you’ve got things under control,” Bryce told him. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“ ’Kay.”
“Boys drank that water faster’n fish.” Hattie wiped her hands on a tea towel. “Working up quite a thirst out there.”
“I’ll bet.” Daisy looked up from kneading bread dough. “Jamie all right? I hope he ain’t bothering ’em iff ’n he gets bored.”
“Happy as a raccoon with summat shiny.” Hattie smiled. “Bryce drilled some holes and steadied in some pegs. Jamie’s out there bangin’ away with a tiny mallet.”
“Oh?” Daisy hoped her son wouldn’t come back from that little adventure with bruises dotting his hands. No, Bryce would watch over him. Jamie could have his fun and be fine. “That’s nice.” I wonder how many times Bryce has had to pick up that mallet.
“Works out well,” Hattie said, answering Daisy’s unspoken thought. “Bryce even drilled a hole in the mallet handle and tied some twine to it so Jamie can yank it back if it falls.”
“That’s clever of him. Right smart.” Daisy dropped the dough back in a big bowl and covered it. “It’s nice for Jamie to be out working with the men.”
“Bryce doesn’t say much, but he’s a thoughtful one.” Hattie slanted Daisy a look she couldn’t decipher.
“He says plenty without running his mouth,” Daisy defended. “A body cain’t always rely on words.”
“I know. It’s why he’s so good with the animals—he has a kind heart that speaks for itself.” Hattie smiled. “He’s taken an interest in Jamie. Logan would never have thought to do something like that peg board.”
“Maybe not.” Daisy smiled. “Logan’s too busy holpin’ grown folks.”
“He does have a heart for the people of the holler.” Hattie’s love shone through her voice. “Bryce tends to the animals and the children. I noticed it at the sang when they first got here—children like bein’ ’round him.”
“Jamie shore does. He ain’t had a man around afore.” Daisy drew a deep breath. “It’ll be hard on him when Bryce goes back to Californy.”
“Maybe.” Hattie shrugged. “I know Logan’ll miss his brother greatly, and I’ve grown fond of Bryce.”
“He grows on you.” Daisy thought of how Bryce had quietly undertaken to spend time with her son and come up with ways for him to do things she’d never thought possible. “I didn’t take much notice of him before yore wedding, but then, suddenlike, he’s become a big part of Jamie’s life.”
“Jist Jamie’s?” Hattie raised her eyebrows.
“All of us.” That was the closest Daisy dared come to admitting how much she’d miss Bryce for her own sake, not just Jamie’s.
“Seems to me a man don’t go out of his way and befriend a child without good reason.” Hattie looked meaningfully at Daisy. “From what I hear, betwixt sprucing up our cabin and takin’ care of this wonderful stove, you two stuck together whilst Logan and me were off on our honeymoon.”
“I…” Daisy started to deny it but quickly shut her mouth. He’d done a lot for her that she’d never asked. On those occasions when his hands closed over hers, a bolt of heat shot straight down her spine.
Cain it be that I didn’t misinterpret the look in his eyes? Could a man like Bryce Chance—tall, strong, capable, and able to have any woman he wanted—possibly be interested in me? Shorely not.
“I see.” Hattie found her answer in Daisy’s silence. “What about you, Daisy? Could you find room in yore heart and family for a man like Bryce?”
Yes. The answer came so swiftly it shocked her. She closed her eyes to clear her thoughts. But he’s so different from Peter. How could I even think of caring for another man that way when the love of my life is gone forever? Tears welled in her eyes.
“Don’t talk nonsense, Hattie Thales—ahem, Hattie Chance.” Daisy squared her shoulders and vigorously scrubbed the already-clean table. “Jist ’cause you have a happy second marriage, don’t mean I’ll get a chance.”
“And here I was thinking that a certain Chance might be jist what you need.” Hattie delivered that parting shot and sailed from the cabin.
“But yore wrong, Hattie,” Daisy muttered even though no one was around to hear the words. “The last Chance is leavin’ town. Soon.”
“A barn raisin’? At this time of year?” Hattie gave voice to the questions Daisy wouldn’t ask. “What for? We’ve already got one!”
“I know,” Logan placated. “But I’m taking my share of the ranch in part cash, part livestock, sweetheart. The milk cow’s getting on in years, and the mule’s come up lame. I aim to bring in a few head of cattle and some horses, but we don’t have enough room in the barn as yet. They’ll be arriving on the train’s cattle car in two weeks. I’ve already arranged for the conductor to stop at the bend before Hawk’s Fall so we can pick ’em up.”
“We can’t leave them outside with winter comin’ on,” Bryce added.
“Yore right.” Daisy threw in her two cents. “We�
�ll spread the word. Folks oughtta be glad to come and lend a hand, what with all Logan and Hattie done for ’em.” Logan had come to the holler and used his affability to get to know folks personally. He found out who could carve and who could trap fine pelts, then went to Louisville to arrange selling it all. Daisy’s lace would be the most recent addition, so she knew from experience just how grateful they all had cause to be.
“Holler’s full of good people,” Logan agreed. “Bryce and I’ve arranged for the lumber to come two days from now. Thick beams enough to build onto the existing structure. Between now and then, Bryce and I’ll be carving a door outta the far wall so it’ll all end up being one big barn.”
“Yep.” Bryce rocked back on his heels. “Going to get the word out. We’ll be raisin’ it next Saturday, if all goes well.”
“Logan Chance, that’s only four days from now!” Hattie shook her head in disbelief. “We have to get ready! You better hitch up the wagon. Daisy and I need to go to town to buy supplies. There’ll be a lot of mouths to feed come Saturday, even if people bring vittles with them.”
“No problem.” Logan made his way toward the door. “That’s why we told you early in the morning. We oughtta have plenty of time for a nice ride to the mercantile.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” Daisy caught Bryce’s arm as he followed Logan. “Hattie and I’ll go. You and Logan have a lot of work ahead of you.”
“What do you mean?” Bryce asked.
“Believe it or not”—Hattie bit back a grin—“we’re gonna need those pie tins.”
“Pie tins,” Logan grumbled as he squeezed beside the stove. He was thinner than Bryce, so he had to contort himself into the hearth. “What on earth possessed you to use pie tins?”
“Daisy’s idea.” Bryce handed him the tools so Logan could start disassembling the stovepipe.
“Where’d she get a cotton-headed notion like that?” Logan demanded, clanking around.
The Brides of Chance Collection Page 79