A flash of hot anger seeped its way up his neck and into his face. “Sure. I’m just fine.” But he was not fine. He continued on down the walk, his hands tightly gripping her bag. How could Cora do that? What happened to her wanting to be his wife and the partner of his ranch? He gritted his teeth, almost forgetting that Greta was walking with him.
Greta slowed her steps on the last block. “Zach . . . I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
“You’ve got my undivided attention. What is it?”
She stopped on the sidewalk, gazing up at him with her big blue eyes. She was just about the prettiest thing he’d ever seen . . . but that was as far as it went with his feelings.
She chewed the inside of her cheek before speaking. “I want to go ahead with our marriage ceremony as soon as possible.”
Her eyes held his as he stood dumbfounded, not sure what to say. “You do? I thought we were going to take our time for a few more weeks.” His mouth went dry.
She reached for his hand. “I’ve been doing some thinking. What are we waiting for? I could make the plans for a small ceremony next week. And I can help you build your house. I’m not afraid of hard work.”
He swallowed hard. Her hand was soft and warm, but where was the tingle up his spine that he’d had when Cora held his hand?
“I know you’re not. It’s just that . . . I have a few things I need to take care of first.” He knew it sounded lame, but he was too tired tonight to deal with this. She’d thrown him for a loop with this unexpected idea. “This is a bit sudden. Can we talk about it later?”
“All right. But we mustn’t wait too long. We don’t want Jess and Cora to beat us to the altar, now do we? We are called mail-order brides, or don’t you remember?”
Zach groaned as she dropped her hand, and they continued on down the street. “How well I remember.” When they reached the hotel, he gave her a quick peck on the cheek and a brief good night, then waited for her to enter the building. What had made her get a bee in her bonnet about suddenly wanting to get married next week? Well, it just couldn’t happen. Not now. Not ever. He’d speak to Jess when he got home and see where he stood with his feelings for Cora.
But when Zach returned home, Jess was snoring in his bed. Zach considered whacking his brother on the nose for kissing Cora, but he wasn’t about to wake him since he intended to be sleeping in less than three minutes himself.
Cora was sleeping soundly when Greta turned the key in the lock. She tiptoed in and was grateful for the hotel’s finer accoutrements like the plush carpet so she didn’t wake Cora. She’d lost her nerve to ask Cora about kissing Zach and Jess, and she was bone weary. Quietly she set her packages down and hurried through her ablutions. She donned her gown, crawled into bed, and pulled up the fluffy blankets, then stared at the moonlight reflected on the ceiling.
Her head was in a continuing whirl of confusion, and her headache was growing. Finding Cora in Jess’s arms had splintered her heart. So much so that she couldn’t begin to articulate any words to him once he’d returned this afternoon. The only thing she could do was avoid him. He’d said himself that he was too afraid of his brother’s shadow. But hadn’t she convinced him otherwise? Then Zach was totally taken aback at the suggestion of their marriage. Hadn’t he been eager just a week ago? She shouldn’t have practically thrown herself at him tonight. Maybe she should pack up and return to Cheyenne.
Lord, I’ve never been more confused. I thought I was walking down the right path, but now it seems that pathway has split in two directions. I can only take one—marry Zach or go back home. Give me some sign, some guidance about what to do . . . And please help me be pleasant to Agnes . . . Soon her swollen eyes were firmly shut tight.
It seemed like only moments later when a loud rapping on their door awakened her.
Greta squinted at the clock. It was barely six o’clock. Cora was already awake and dressing and turned to see Greta stirring in bed. “Whoever could be knocking on our door at this hour?” Greta whispered.
Cora shook her head as she stuck a pin into her thick hair. “I can’t imagine,” she said and walked toward the door. “Who’s there?”
“Miss Cora,” a frantic voice said through the door. “It’s Martha Carey. Please . . . can I speak with you a moment?”
Cora opened the door just as Greta donned her robe. “Martha. Is everything all right?”
Martha stood in the hallway, wringing a handkerchief in her chapped hands. “I’m truly sorry to disturb you at this hour, but you did say if I should ever need anything to let you know.”
“Yes, I did. Go on. Are the children okay?”
Martha bobbed her head. Concern was etched in deep lines on her face. “They are. It’s Horace. He’s in the hospital with a severe case of pneumonia, and I . . . I don’t know which way to turn.”
Cora took her arm, gently ushered her inside, and closed the door. “Please, tell me what I can do to help.”
“It’s the children. I’ve left them alone for two days now, and they’re so frightened. The oldest is trying to take care of the little ones.” She drew in a deep breath. “Do you think the store could spare you to help care for them while I’m at the hospital for today? I’m so worried about them.”
“Have no worry about that. I’m not tied to that store,” Cora said, snatching up her coat and handbag. She turned to Greta. “Please let Jess know where I am, will you, Greta?”
“Of course, and if you need anything, just send word.” Greta blinked, trying to wake up and grasp the situation.
Cora started for the door, ushering Martha along, then paused. “I’m sorry, Martha, this is Greta Olsen, a good friend of mine.”
Martha nodded in her direction as she walked toward the door.
“Nice to meet you, Martha. Your children will be in good hands with Cora.”
They were gone in a flash, and Greta was tempted to crawl back under the warm covers, but it was nearly time to get up anyhow. She trudged over to the bathroom and was horrified at the face she saw in the mirror. Puffy eyes stared back at her. Last night she’d slept very little. Frequently she woke to the image of Cora in Jess’s arms, made worse by the remembrance of how his lips had felt on her own.
She shook herself mentally and splashed cold water on her face. Enough! Her crying was over. She couldn’t change a thing and needed to trust God for her future. The lesson she’d learned was to not always trust her heart, and that just might mean returning to Wyoming.
Greta skipped breakfast and arrived before anyone else at the store. She pulled up the shades, allowing the bright sun to light up the room. She took comfort now in the eclectic smells of the mercantile—beeswax, leather, tobacco, a crate of polished apples, pine floors, and the woodsy smoke smell of the stove. Rascal was awake in his crate, and she opened the door to give him a squeeze. He wagged his tail in delight as his pink tongue licked her hands. Carrying the small ball of fur, she tiptoed down the hallway and opened the back door, then put him out to do his business.
She’d brew coffee when the men came downstairs. She straightened the table and chairs, smoothing the tablecloth and tidying up the area for customers. Since Cora was at the Careys’, she shifted her focus to a bolt of cream brocade material and measured out the yards needed for Cora’s wedding dress. At least she could do something good for her friend. It wasn’t Cora’s fault that Jess loved her and she loved him.
She heard a floorboard creak overhead. Someone must be up now.
“I thought I heard noises down here. Mornin’,” Jess mumbled. He stumbled down the steps and blinked at her, trying to focus. Pulling his suspenders over his long handles, he smiled and ran his hands over his disheveled hair. “You’re here a mite early, Greta.”
“I’m sorry if I disturbed you.” She walked toward him, thinking she’d never seen him in bare feet or so rumpled. “I was straightening things up a little.” She reached around him for her apron and could feel her body tense at his nearness, so she quickly stepped b
ack to the other side of the counter to slip the apron on. “Cora told me to let you know that she’s gone over to Martha Carey’s to watch her children. Her husband is in the hospital with pneumonia.”
“I see. Seems I do remember either Cora or Annabelle telling me Horace had injured his leg and was unable to work. I’m glad she could be of help.” His dark eyes held hers across the counter for a long moment. “I’d better run back upstairs and get dressed,” he said, scratching the two days’ worth of growth on his face. “Don’t want to scare you off.” His lips curled upward in a half smile.
“Better that you worry about scaring Cora off and not me,” she said, turning around so she could start sewing before Agnes showed up. Then she nearly laughed. If she were a betting woman, Greta would bet Agnes would not be coming for her dress until after eleven.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jess’s smile quickly slid off his face, replaced by a somber look.
She spun back around. “I think you know what I mean, so let’s just leave it at that.” He jerked his head back, frowning, but she moved away. She could feel his eyes staring at her back. When she reached her sewing area, she saw him stomp up the stairs, muttering to himself.
31
Jess didn’t care whom he woke as he stomped up the stairs, banged the coffeepot onto the stove, and lit a fire. What had happened to Greta? Ever since she’d returned from Granny’s, she’d been unfriendly and detached. While the coffee boiled, he washed his face and combed his hair down, then reached for his last clean shirt. He’d meant to press it, but right now he couldn’t care less if it was wrinkled.
Caleb shuffled out of bed with a grunt at Jess and headed down the stairs to the outhouse. Zach sat up in bed and scratched his head. “What time is it?”
“Time to get up,” Jess growled. “We have a busy day with freight coming in. We’ll be shorthanded too. Cora’s gone over to help out the Careys today.”
“What for?” Zach asked as he slipped on his britches.
Jess plunked down two mugs of coffee on the table. “Horace is in the hospital and Martha could use help with those five kids, I reckon.”
“Cora enjoys helping people, so I’m not surprised. She told me once that it’s her spiritual gift.” He buttoned up his shirt, then tucked it into his pants and slipped on his belt.
“Is that so?” Jess wondered when he’d learned that bit of information. “Seems you’d know more about Greta than Cora, wouldn’t you?”
Zach took a swig of his coffee before answering. “Maybe. Jess, we need to—”
The door flew open and Caleb strode in, carrying Rascal. “This little booger tried to take off down the alley, but I caught him. Greta would have a fit if he got lost.”
“Speaking of Greta, she’s already downstairs.” Jess poured Caleb his coffee. He opened the cupboard, unwrapped some biscuits from the day before, and placed them on the table.
“Is this all we have to eat?” Caleb frowned.
“You can dunk the biscuits in your coffee. I keep forgetting to stock up on groceries. Zach used to handle that, but he’s so busy with his farm that he doesn’t have time anymore.”
“Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, Jess?” Zach gave him a funny look.
“You might say that,” he answered, then broke his biscuit in half and dunked it in his coffee.
“You can have my share,” Zach said. “I’m going to Mabel’s. Wanna come too, Caleb?”
“You bet!” Caleb hopped up. “I can almost taste that thick slab of ham now.”
Zach pulled on his boots, and the two of them made a quick exit, leaving Jess alone, staring into his coffee. Jess admonished himself for snapping at Zach. It was just as much his fault that he could never remember to get done half of what he should on any given day, but then, that had never been his strong suit. But the true reason he was grouchy was the little blue-eyed blonde who made his head reel.
Cora sat on the front porch of the Careys’ home with the children sitting in a semicircle around her feet and baby Danny in her lap. Eddy, the four-year-old, sat on the chair arm as she continued to read Treasure Island—right where Martha had left off the day before. The children’s concentration on the story was evident by their rapt attention, and they barely moved a muscle.
Cora glanced up and saw the baby’s eyes grow heavy as he was lulled to sleep, perhaps by the low pitch of her voice. Amos squirmed in his chair, interrupting as she turned the page. “Miss Cora, do you have any children we could play with?” he asked in his baby-child voice.
Cora paused, staring into Amos’s bright eyes. “No. I don’t. But someday soon when I get married I hope to,” she answered, ruffling his bushy brown hair and making him smile. His chubby hand patted her arm. “I like you, Miss Cora,” he whispered.
“Ma told us that you were going to marry Jess Gifford,” Amos piped up.
“Shh. Be quiet,” Leah ordered.
“No she’s not. I saw her kissing Zach down at Clear Creek,” Becky blurted out.
“Becky!” Leah admonished her, then turned to stare at Cora. “Who are you going to marry, Miss Cora?”
“Well, I . . . don’t rightly know . . .” Cora licked her lips anxiously, wondering why the children needed to know the affairs of the heart. Childhood curiosity?
“Yeah, let her finish the chapter,” Leah urged.
Cora closed the book. “That was the end of the chapter, children. I’m going to go put Danny in bed, then you all can help me set the table for lunch. How’s that?” They nodded, rising from the floor, and Cora was struck by how mindful of their manners the children were. They may have been without means, but it was obvious that the Careys held to their faith and good parenting skills, which no money could buy. Either way, Cora had had a fun day with them and dreamed of the day she’d have her own children to read and play games with.
“Leah, since you’re the oldest, would you ask the blessing?” Cora asked later at the supper table. Cooking wasn’t one of Cora’s natural domestic skills, so Leah and Becky pitched in and helped Cora whip up pancakes topped with thick, heavy syrup for supper. A simple affair, but satisfying nonetheless, and the smaller ones thought it was a great treat.
“I’ll be happy to, Miss Cora.” Leah prayed for their meal, then for her father.
“Thank you.” Cora handed the plate of pancakes around, then helped Eddy cut his pancakes into bite-sized pieces. When she leaned down, he gave her a quick kiss at her temple, and her heart flooded with warmth.
The laughter around the table and the children’s chattering was a wonderful change from eating at Mabel’s café. Not that she didn’t thoroughly enjoy Mabel’s cooking, but this was a real family with real issues they were facing. She prayed that Horace would make a quick recovery.
Cora and Becky tidied up the kitchen while Leah got the younger ones ready for a bath. That’s when Martha walked in, and they all ran to her with a flood of questions.
“My, my. Let me catch my breath. I walked from the infirmary home and I’m nearly out of breath.”
“I’ll get you some water,” Becky said and took off for the kitchen while the rest waited anxiously for word of their father.
Cora led Martha to the couch, and the children gathered around. “Rest a moment. I’m sure the news can wait a few minutes more.”
Martha drank the glass of water Becky brought. “Thank you, Becky. What a thoughtful young lady you are becoming,” she said with a smile at her daughter, then directed her gaze to include all the children. “Your father’s fever broke and the doctors think he’ll be all right, but he will be mighty weak. I’m going to need you all to continue helping each other as before.”
“You know we will, Mother.” The eldest daughter knelt down next to Martha’s chair.
Martha looked up at Cora. “I hope they didn’t give you any trouble today,” she murmured with a weary smile.
Cora smiled. “They were good and very helpful to an old maid like me. Are you hungry?
We have a few pancakes left.”
“I’d love that.”
“Then you sit right there and I’ll bring them to you. I know you must be exhausted.” Cora noticed Martha’s sunken eyes and the dark circles under them. She’d probably gone days without sleep before taking Horace to the hospital, and she wondered when her last meal had been. By the looks of the dress hanging off her, it couldn’t have been for a couple of days.
“Please don’t fuss over me, Cora. I’m okay, really. Just need a little bit of rest, I think.”
Cora nodded to Leah. “Help me get a tray together for your mother. Then I’ll be on my way so she can rest.”
When Cora was satisfied that Martha was rested and had eaten, she told the children goodbye. She was pleased with their warm affection and sweet hugs as she left, not to mention Martha’s gratitude.
“You’re a godsend, Cora. I can’t thank you enough.” Martha walked her to the door.
“The smile on your face is quite enough, Martha. Please get some rest. If you want me to come back in the morning, I will.” Cora lifted her coat and handbag from the hall tree.
“The doctor said he would let Horace come home tomorrow, but he’ll be confined to bed for a few days. I’ll hitch up the wagon, and the kids will enjoy the ride when we go pick him up. But thank you so much for your help.”
“Anytime. I mean that, Martha. Your children have been delightful. I’d better run now.” Cora hugged the children again, promised to come back soon, and set off down the road to town, remembering that Jess was to take her back to Granny’s after work. This evening if she could, she’d spend more time in the attic to look for the stored dishes. Maybe the Blue Willow would help broker peace between her and Greta once she found out that Cora was in love with Zach.
She was glad that she spent that time with the Carey family today. It only further reminded her of her commitment to help others. She had a soft spot when it came to children, and that gave her a great idea. She couldn’t wait to share it with Zach.
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