Seems to me that with Bryce around, a lot of things are better’n afore. Mayhap the wagon isn’t the only thing that will work between us.
“Now let me see….” Bryce rubbed his jaw and stared at the wagon. With Logan gone to Louisville, he had the time to take Jamie fishing before it got too cold. “I’ve got Jamie—you’ve got Nosey?”
“ ’Es!” Jamie held up the wiggly pooch before tucking her back in his lap. Nosey fared well with Jamie’s attention and the cow’s milk Bryce kept feeding her.
“I’ve got the poles and tackle box. You have that lunch basket your ma packed?”
Jamie nodded and patted the basket. It rested in front of him in the wagon.
“Sounds like we’re ready to go catch some supper!” Bryce took hold of the wagon handle with his free hand and set off. “The fish know the weather’s changing, so we should have no trouble coaxing a few onto the line.”
Jamie played with Nosey as Bryce pulled the wagon along the dirt road. He stopped when he spotted a shady patch of moist earth. He turned the wagon onto the grass, where it jounced along more roughly.
“Whee!” Jamie held on tight but looked around in confusion when Bryce stopped. “ ’Ish?”
“Before we catch fish, we’ll need bait.” Bryce lifted the youngster out of the wagon and sat him down. He pulled out his pocketknife and dug up some of the dark dirt. “I need your help. We have to dig around until we find worms!”
“Mess.” Jamie looked at the dirt longingly.
“This is man’s work. Your mama knows we’ll get a little dirty.” Bryce scooped some of the dirt into Jamie’s fingers and unearthed a pink worm. He grabbed it and dropped it into the jar he’d brought along. “See? Now let’s get a bunch more.”
Jamie didn’t need to be told twice. The small boy burrowed into the earth with gusto, scattering dirt everywhere. Nosey watched for a minute before joining in, her front paws scrabbling to widen the hole. The little boy held up his filthy fist, eyes shining in glee. “Got’t!”
“Good one.” Bryce held out the jar, and Jamie dropped in a fat earthworm.
It didn’t take long for Bryce to judge they had enough. He picked up Jamie, turned him upside down, and gave him a few light bounces. The lad giggled as specks of dirt rained to the ground. Nosey gave herself an emphatic shake, starting at her nose and wiggling all the way down.
“Let’s go to the stream.” Bryce got them both situated in the wagon—Jamie insisted on holding the jar of worms—and made their way to the fishing hole. Bryce splashed Jamie’s hands with water before they shared a picnic lunch of egg-salad sandwiches and coleslaw. Then it was time to get down to business.
“Eeww!” Jamie shrieked, fascinated as Bryce laced the first worm onto his hook.
“Here.” Bryce cast the line into the water and handed the small, lightweight pole to Jamie. “Hold it tight, and let me know when you get a bite.”
“How I know?” Jamie stared at the pole blankly.
“It’ll move.” Bryce reached out and gave the line a gentle tug. “Like that. Then you tell me, and we’ll haul in your fish. Remember, you have to be as quiet as you can.”
“ ’Kay!” His little brow furrowed as he concentrated on the task at hand.
Bryce baited his own hook, then hunkered down beside Jamie. The little boy couldn’t really hold the pole steady, but he did a good job trying. They sat in silence, listening to the rippling water and the whisper of the wind through the long grasses at the water’s edge. Birdcalls rarely disturbed the quiet, since most of them had flown south already.
“Byce!” Jamie gripped his pole tightly, trying to steady the wobble.
It took Bryce a moment to decide if it was Jamie shaking or a fish on the line. Bryce scooped Jamie up and put his hands over the little boy’s to steady them. The line danced in the water. He immediately started walking back, drawing the line from the water until a fair-sized fish flopped on the bank. Bryce pulled it farther from the water so it wouldn’t slide back.
Nosey trailed the slippery fish from the water’s edge, backing away when its tail hit her in the muzzle. The little dog looked up at Bryce and Jamie, wagging her tail as though to say, “We did it!”
“Would you look at that?” Bryce sat Jamie down before sliding the hook from the fish’s mouth. “First fish of the day. Way to go, buddy!” He handed it to Jamie and pushed the water pail closer. “Go ahead and put it in the bucket of water.”
Jamie dropped his catch into the pail, beaming with pride. “Ag’n?” he asked hopefully.
Bryce nodded and handed him the pole, ready with a worm dangling from the hook. “We’ve got a whole pail to fill. Let’s get to it so we’ve got enough for supper when we go back home.”
Winter came in a flurry of snow and ice, blanketing the ground in a single night. Daisy woke up to see her own breath and rushed to put more wood on the stove. She dressed Jamie in the flannel long underwear she’d scarce finished for him, layering his pants and shirt atop so he’d keep warm. His woolen winter coat hung ready on the hook by the door iff ’n she took him outside at all.
Don’t see no reason to risk it. Jamie gets along jist fine even though he cain’t use his legs, but in the snow he’ll get drenched and icy cold so quick. His wagon won’t pull him through snowdrifts. Iff ’n he catches cold, Jamie ain’t strong enough to fight it off like most boys.
Daisy shredded the potatoes, pushing the knife into the roots hard as she thought about how frail her son’s health could be. It’ll grow into pneumony, and I’ll lose him. Best keep him inside. Bryce’ll still take him to the barn to visit the animals, and Jamie has Nosey in here. It’ll have to do.
The fried potatoes and coffee steamed on the stove when Logan and Hattie walked through the adjoining door and said good morning to Miz Willow, who didn’t look up from reading her morning devotions. Bryce fetched Jamie to gather the eggs, then brought the basket back full. Hattie helped Daisy scramble them up with chunks of ham.
“First snow of the winter!” Logan grinned as he downed his breakfast.
“Beautiful out there,” Hattie agreed. “Snow turns the world into soft white curves, like givin’ it a clean coat of whitewash, only better.”
“I can’t wait. Fresh-fallen snow has so many possibilities.” Bryce turned to Jamie. “You have your long underwear on, buddy?”
“Yep!” Jamie pulled on the neck of his shirt to show Bryce the red flannel beneath.
Now why would Bryce ask a question like that? He’s not planning on taking Jamie out in the snow!
Alarmed, Daisy stared at Bryce.
“Snow angels are a must,” he said, going right on with his planning. “Maybe a snowman, too.”
“Not today, fellers.” Daisy rose and cleared the empty platters.
“Why not?” Logan demanded.
“I haven’t made Jamie his gloves yet, so he cain’t go out in the snow.” There. That’s a solid reason. It’ll even take me awhile to make the gloves. Iff ’n I stretch it out, I might not have ’em done afore blizzarding season. Then he’ll hardly use ’em a’tall.
“That reminds me.” Bryce fumbled in his pockets and pulled out a pair of small blue woolen gloves with a matching scarf. “Seems as though I missed your birthday, Jamie. Just a month before we met.” Bryce shook his head. “I had to do something to fix that!”
Daisy drew a deep breath as he fit the gloves onto Jamie’s tiny hands before wrapping the scarf around his neck. Her son held his hands out in front of him and wiggled his fingers gleefully. The gloves Logan had picked up for him in Louisville fit perfectly.
“Ready!”
“What about yore lessuns?” she burst out, desperate to keep Jamie out of the cold.
“It’s the first snowfall, Daisy!” Logan pushed aside her protest like it was nothing more than a pesky gnat.
“But Jamie don’t have a second pair of flannels,” Daisy protested. “Iff ’n those get soaked through, he’ll get cold.”
“We’ll ha
ve warm towels waiting in the oven to dry him off before he changes,” Bryce reassured her as he helped Jamie into his coat and put on his own, too. “And I’m sure you’ll have some hot tea waiting, too. It’ll be fine.”
With that, he whisked her son out into the snow, the door banging shut behind them.
“I said no! Why won’t they let me raise Jamie as I see fit?” Daisy paced around the cabin. “He cain’t catch cold. It’s too dangerous!”
“I know.” Hattie began fixing some tea. “But I’ll have those towels warm, and we’ll get him some tea. He’s bundled up out there, too. I reckon a boy’s got to play in the snow sometime, Daisy. Might as well be now.”
No, it shouldn’t.
Chapter 20
This way.” Logan lay down in a fresh drift of powder and spread his outstretched arms and legs open and shut. “That’s how you make a snow angel!”
Bryce put Jamie down and grabbed his shoes to move his legs in the proper motion. The boy waved his arms up and down in imitation of Logan. Bryce lifted him back up so he could survey his handiwork.
“Ange’s!” Jamie pointed excitedly at the impression he’d made in the white blanket covering the earth.
“And a very fine one it is, too,” Bryce assessed. He put Jamie down in his wagon. Sure, it wouldn’t roll through the drifts, but it was a dry place for Jamie to sit down. Hattie had spoken with him about Jamie’s health. He wasn’t strong enough to handle a cold like most kids. It’d turn to pneumonia and take his life. Bryce needed to be extra careful.
All the same, it did no good protecting Jamie’s life if no one let him live it. The boy deserved to enjoy all the wonder of childhood. Bryce intended to give him all the laughter and adventure possible during the time they had.
“We’re going to teach you how to make snowballs.” Bryce put a lump of the soft ice in Jamie’s hand, took one for himself, and demonstrated how to mold it into a round ball.
“Once you’re done, put it down and start a pile. Keep making more.” Bryce, Logan, and Jamie all worked to make dozens of snowballs.
“I’ve got an idea.” Logan started carrying some and putting them in a heap beside the cabin door.
“What are you up to?” Bryce had a funny feeling it involved getting Hattie and Daisy to play in the snow.
“You’ll see.” Logan came back and hunched on Jamie’s other side. “Hattie! Daisy! Grab your cloaks and come out here for a minute!”
The door opened, and Hattie stepped outside in her pink-hooded cover. “What is it?”
“Snowball fight!” Logan lobbed one at her shoulder.
“No fair! We’re unarmed!” Daisy glowered at Bryce.
“Snowbaws!” Jamie pitched one, but it fell short with a soft thud.
“To your left, ladies!” Bryce waited for them to throw the first volley before reciprocating. Then the fight was on.
He held Jamie’s hand and helped him swing his arm, showing him when to release the snowball so it would go farther. The little boy learned quickly, hitting Hattie and Daisy more times than Bryce thought possible. Their carefully created supply of ammunition dwindled rapidly.
“That’s it. We’re out.” Bryce stood up. He heard the whoosh too late to duck and ended up with a collar full of melting snow. “Who did that?”
“Me!” Daisy stood like a warrior, framed in the doorway she’d built with him. Her cheeks glowed a pretty pink, a smile stretched across her rosy lips, and she gripped one last snowball in her left hand.
“We surrender! We’ve got nothing left!” Logan put his hands up.
“Nothing doin’!” Hattie swiped Daisy’s final snowball to toss at her husband. It smashed into his chest, and Logan sank to his knees.
“Brought down by my own wife!” he moaned. “Right in the heart!”
“Quit yore bellyachin’!” Miz Willow shook her cane at them. “You called the girls out for a snowball fight and came off the worse for it. You got nobody to blame ’cept yoreselves. Come inside and warm up afore you catch your death out here.”
Daisy stayed outside after Hattie and Logan tromped into the cabin, waiting for Bryce to hand over Jamie. As Bryce saw her cuddle her son, burrowing her face into his hair, he felt warm despite the cold. He, Daisy, and Jamie would make a good family. All he had to do was bide his time until Daisy realized the same thing.
“Daisy,” Miz Willow began as she laid down the pad of paper with numbers scrawled across it. “You know you don’t have to do this. We got plenty of room here.”
“Don’t get me wrong, Miz Willow. Yore place is mighty fine, and I cain’t tell you how much I ’preciate yore hospitality.” Daisy searched for the words. “But Hawk’s Fall…Peter bought that land when we first wed. It’s home to Jamie an’ me.”
“Darlin’, I know it was. But that house is gone forever.” Miz Willow’s observation tore at Daisy’s heart. “Even iff ’n you could scrimp enough to rebuild, it wouldn’t be what holds yore memories.”
“I ken that. But the land is all we got left now.” Daisy drew a deep breath. “So I need for us to keep on goin’.” Logan, Jamie, and Bryce won’t stay out in the barn for’ver, and Hattie’ll be back from the Pleasant place soon. She managed a tight smile as Miz Willow picked up the paper and pen once more. “You got how much per piece? Now we need to figgur out how many veils, runners, and collars you cain make per year.”
“It takes a powerful long time to make lace, so…” Daisy thought long and hard before she gave the answer.
Miz Willow’s pen scratched across the paper as she laboriously added it all up. “How much did Logan tell you the lumber would run? Hearth bricks? The workers?” The old woman frowned at the numbers she wrote. “You take into account all the thangs you’ll need? Furniture, pots, pans, stock of dry goods, blankets, hearth rug, buckets, hay for yore mule, and such?”
“Not yet.” Daisy lifted her chin in determination. “We’ll get by on whatever’s left after food and clothes for Jamie an’ me.” She rattled off still more numbers Logan had helped her figure out.
“That’s it, Daisy.” Miz Willow sucked in a sharp breath. “You only got but two dollars left. Ain’t nearly enough to outfit a home, even iff ’n you manage to make as much lace as you say you cain this winter.”
Daisy’s throat closed. It’s not enough. I cain’t possibly make any more lace than that, and even with the extry money from Logan’s trade deal, it won’t suffice. Why? I work so hard. It should be sufficient to provide for Jamie and me. I’ve always managed afore. I’ll think of somethin’.
“Iff ’n I swaller m’ pride an’ ask Logan and the men ’round here to holp me out”— Daisy shut her eyes at the thought of asking for charity—“so’s I don’t pay for the work, would it be enough?” It has to be.
Miz Willow squinted at the pad. “I don’t reckon it would, Daisy. Even if the men of the community pitch in like they should and build the house and even yore furniture for you, you’ll jist have enough left to buy wood for next winter and keep yore mule in hay. Yore still missin’ blankets, pots, pans, and such like.”
“I’ll work harder,” Daisy spoke quickly, desperately. “How ’bout iff ’n I make two more collars this winter?” I’ll work into the nights. Somehow, I’ll get it done.
“Not quite.” Miz Willow shook her white locks. “It’d almost be enough, but yore forgettin’ how you an’ Jamie need winter thangs. Yore already makin’ him a coat, but that’s jist a start.”
“I don’t need anythin’. I got Hattie’s ole cloak. I’ll get by.” Daisy straightened her shoulders with resolve.
“What about candles?” Miz Willow pressed her. “And Nosey?”
I cain’t ask Jamie to give up his pup. She sleeps curled up aside him at night, follows him durin’ the day. Daisy buried her head in her hands and willed herself not to give in to the sobs rising in her throat. No matter how hard I work, I cain’t do it. There’s not enough time to take care of Jamie and make enough lace to rebuild our home.
; Her chest hitched, then tightened. Daisy’s breath grew ragged. Panic welled inside her. I cain’t provide for my son. She took in quick, shallow breaths, not getting enough air.
“Here.” Miz Willow thrust a cup of tea in her hands. “The steam oughtta holp you breathe. I’ll go get some eucalyptus oil.” She rushed to the storeroom and back, dotting something beneath Daisy’s nose. “Take slow, deep breaths now, else yore gonna faint.” Miz Willow squeezed her hand. “And you might as well let out them tears. They’ve been a long time comin’.”
The wail rose from the bottom of her soul as Daisy gave in. Hot tears rushed down her face, her shoulders shaking with the intensity of her sobs. Miz Willow held her as she cried for Peter, for Jamie, for the loss of their home, for knowing she couldn’t keep everything together no matter how hard she tried. When there was nothing left inside her, she straightened up and used the third handkerchief Miz Willow passed to her.
“What am I gonna do?”
“First thang is to calm down, now that you’ve let it all out.” Miz Willow briskly took the cooled tea from the table. “Then take a moment to realize yore already done with the hardest part.”
“What?” To Daisy’s way of thinking, the hardest part lay ahead.
“You admitted you need holp. That’s somethin’ you’ve been avoidin’ for a far sight too long.”
Mayhap, Daisy admitted. But now I have to ask for the holp I need.
“So now that yore facin’ the facts, I figgur you’ve got two paths you cain take.” Miz Willow pinned her with a no-nonsense gaze. “You an’ Jamie are more’n welcome in this house. Yore son brightens my day, and yore a bigger holp ’round here than you know.”
“Thankee, Miz Willow.” Daisy swallowed the lump of pride lodged in her throat. “It’s a good place to raise Jamie.”
“Yore welcome, Daisy. I ain’t jist returnin’ the customary response to thankee, neither. I want you to listen and pay me heed. You and Jamie are welcome here. Yore wanted and loved, and all of us know how hard you work. You’ll still be providin’ for yore son, jist under this roof where you cain holp me, too. Understand?”
The Brides of Chance Collection Page 85