by Freda, Paula
When Seth returned home that evening, the kitchen was spotless. Supper was ready and waiting. He hung up his coat and Stetson by the door. “Pot roast smells good,” he remarked. He washed up and sat down to supper. Leatrice said nothing. “By the way, what about the separator?” he asked, noticing its absence. “It’s in the repair shop,” she replied. She was standing up through sheer will power. Never in her life had she worked so hard cleaning up. Seth sliced the pot roast. He served himself a hefty portion along with the green beans and boiled potatoes. “Lee, in the future, go easy on my machinery, will you?” Leatrice glared at him, bristling with indignation.
He had the distinct impression that the only reason she did not throw the food at him was because she had worked so hard cleaning the kitchen. She must be aching to lie down and sleep for the next twenty hours. Instead she knocked off two tears with the back of her hand, and got on with the business of eating. He admired her, and this time he did not run from the feeling.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The mares foaled in June and Leatrice promptly fell in love with each new baby-faced, gangly critter that struggled awkwardly to its legs. Forget-me-nots bloomed across the country and Seth once told her their flowers matched the color of her eyes. The warm weather brought friends and guests, and fishing in the rambling creek that flowed over rocks and stones behind the ranch, through the miles of windswept pastures comprising the Triple R and the Bar LB. Leatrice and Seth often rode together through the lush green pastures and across the high grey ridges up into evergreen hills that barely missed skimming the cloud-dappled skies. Warm, rain-free evenings found them seated in front of the house, sipping a cool drink or a cup of coffee. Tanner and Binney customarily joined them, chatting over the day’s events and discussing the next day’s agenda. It was on such a night, after the two foremen had left, that Seth suggested Leatrice supervise the Triple R’s annual Fourth of July outing.
“After my mother died, Linda took over organizing the cookout. Did a pretty good job of it, too. But with the Bar LB to consider as well, I think the men sort of expect you to run things this year. Think you can handle it?”
A tall order, Leatrice reflected, and put that way, a challenge. “I’ll need help,” she replied honestly.
“Understandable. Linda and her mother will be on hand. You might ask the men’s wives to each bring a side dish. That should cut your work in half.” Leatrice had often helped her parents organize gala affairs. Of course, money and service had never been an issue. And after her fiasco at the branding, she welcomed the opportunity to redeem her self-esteem in Seth’s eyes.
“All right, but I’d rather not have Linda’s help. If I need advice I’ll ask one of the men’s wives.”
“Suit yourself, but don’t forget to invite her, and her family. Remember, Linda works here.”
She agreed, if grudgingly. An idea occurred to her. “By the way, would you mind if I also asked my parents to come down. I haven’t seen them since last summer and when I spoke to them on the telephone last month, mother mentioned wanting to visit.”
“Do you think they’d fit in?” Seth asked.
“My parents aren’t snobs, if that’s what you’re getting at. In fact, they’re easy to get along with. I think you’d like them.”
Seth contemplated the way her chin rose as she spoke of her parents. The past months had not been easy for her. He often wondered what there really was about him that made a woman as rich and beautiful as Leatrice turn her back on all her wealth and popularity to spend a year in his company. He did not consider himself handsome. Never had. He had a raspy voice and he lacked a witty tongue. Jokes met a quick death on his lips. His shoulders were much too big for his thirty-eight waist, and he had the hardest time finding boots big enough to fit him. Why any woman would go to the lengths Leatrice had, puzzled him to no end. And even more puzzling, that she continued not to tire of him or the rugged life he led.
She faced each challenge, not always successfully, but always with determination. Whenever she fell flat on her face, she climbed to her feet, however awkwardly, but ready for the next challenge. He wanted to meet her parents, to know what sort of folk could spawn such a woman. “Sure, why not,” he said. “They can use the cabin down the road, the one you stayed in as a paying guest. I’ll have the electricity turned on. Do your people ride?”
Leatrice’s laugh was rich and vibrant. “Very much so. My parents own stables in Upstate New York and run thoroughbreds in some of the State’s best competitions.” It would be good to see her parents again. To hug her mother and see her father smile, and listen to his husky laugh. She’d organize the best cookout that Seth had ever attended and show her parents how much she had grown in spirit, and all the practical knowledge she’d acquired. “I’ll call them first thing in the morning. They’ll be thrilled. Thanks,” she said.
“What’s your dad like?” Seth asked.
Leatrice formed a mental image of her father. “Genial, elegant, kind. He’s quite a guy.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting him,” Seth replied in earnest.
The following morning Leatrice called together Tanner and Binney. Side by side, the two foremen reminded her of a tall, rustic Jeff and a short, bristly Mutt. She came quickly to the point.
“Linda won’t be running the outing this year. I will.
The two foremen looked at each other. Ever since the branding session, word had spread that the two women were not on the best of terms. “I’d like one thing made clear,” Leatrice pointed out. “Linda is not to be consulted whatsoever on this cookout. She and her family will be invited, of course. But we three can plan and execute the best barbecue yet for all the ranch hands and their families.” Tanner hid a smile, agreeing. He liked seeing Leatrice take charge again. He had liked working for her when she had been the sole owner of the Bar LB. In the same manner as Seth, she had expected much of her employees, but treated each one fairly. Although not as experienced as Seth Driscoll in the manual side of the job, her willingness to listen and weigh advice had made it easy to work for her. “We’ll help all we can,” he promised.
“Yes, ma’am,” Binney seconded. “And I’ll spread the word to the men.” She was a plucky lady, Binney thought. Personally he found Linda snooty.
Leatrice explained, “Seth suggested that since this year’s outing involves both ranches, the men’s wives each bring a side dish. I’ll rely on you both to spread that information as well. Tanner, I’ll need you to help me determine the amount of food we’ll need. Binney, music is a must in my book. Do you know if any of the men play instruments?”
Tanner offered, “I play a mean guitar.”
Binney pulled back his shoulders. “And I can spit out a fair tune on the harmonica. Ben is pretty good with his fiddle. Worked as a caller two years ago at the Critter Nugget in town, ‘case you’re interested in throwing in a square dance.”
“Would be nice to have some dancing after the meal.” She glanced at Tanner. “Can some of the boys put together a dance floor near the campsite?”
“Don’t see any reason why not,” Tanner replied.
Leatrice felt exhilarated. “Splendid. Round up the musicians and have them practice a few pieces.”
“Yes ma’am,” Tanner agreed cheerfully.
“I hope the weather holds out,” Leatrice said.
“Don’t you worry, ma’am,” Tanner assured. “Rain or shine, we’ll give the boys and their families a good time.”
That afternoon Leatrice telephoned her parents. “I’m fine, mother, just very busy,” she replied to the immediate inquiry. “Guess what, you and dad are invited for the weekend of the Fourth. She knew her mother well enough to recognize the emotional tremor in her reply. “Oh dear, that’s wonderful. Tom and I will fly over. Can I bring you anything, clothes, money — caviar?”
Leatrice smiled, picturing the sincerity on her mother’s face. “No mother, thank you, just yourself and Dad. I’ve missed you both so much.”
&n
bsp; “We’ll be there, you can count on it.”
“Thank you mother.”
“Leatrice....”
“Yes, mother.
“You know that we love you.”
“Of course. And the feeling is mutual.”
“Right, dearest. Until the Fourth, then.”
“Goodbye, mother.”
“Goodbye, dearest.”
Later that week, Seth cleared the brush and debris accumulated on the property around the spare cabin and had the utilities turned on. And shortly before her parent's arrival, Leatrice cleaned the cabin’s two bedrooms and family room with loving care. She hung starched calico curtains on all the windows and put fresh flowers in each room.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Lovely,” Beth Meredith remarked as Binney helped her husband bring in the luggage.
The reunion with her parents was like no other that Leatrice had previously experienced. She stayed longer than expected in her mother’s gardenia-scented embrace and nearly outdid her father in his hearty bear hug.
“Well, daughter, what’s on the agenda for today?” Tom asked.
“You’re both on your own for the next few hours. Unpack, refresh yourselves. The cabin has a full bath and lots of hot water. Seth is anxious to meet you. I’ll be at the house preparing supper. Hurry over when you’re ready.”
As she cooked the evening meal, she felt as excited as a kitten with its first ball of yarn. She put away thoughts of the months passing quickly and her year of residence drawing to a close.
Later at the dinner table, Beth and Tom, dressed in cashmere pullovers and jeans, did not seem to mind their simple surroundings. They joked and exchanged conversational tidbits. Leatrice listened happily, turning steaks on the stove and stirring potatoes and onions. Cinnamon-spiced apples bubbled in the oven. Seth walked into the enlivened kitchen and he smiled genuinely.
“Driscoll, correct?” Tom said, standing up. He immediately offered his hand.
Seth returned the handshake. He noticed immediately that Leatrice had her father’s eyes. The man’s manner was straightforward and open. His voice was deep and jolly and refined, and when he spoke Seth’s name it was jam-packed with respect.
Leatrice introduced her mother. Seth bent and kissed her cheek. She smelled of gardenias and her skin was as soft as that of a newborn pup. Beth glanced at her daughter. Leatrice had long since confided in her mother her feelings for Seth. And now that she’d met him, it was easy to see why her daughter had fallen in love with the sandy-haired rancher. He was a real man, no affectations, and a man of the earth. And a darn handsome one, too. He reminded her of Tom as he’d looked in college, especially on the football field. She wondered if his mind was as fine as her husband’s.
Seth glimpsed no trace of stuffiness or phoniness in the group seated at his table. They joked and laughed as they squeezed tighter at the table to make room for him, and he understood clearly the answer to what had puzzled him the most about Leatrice. Why she had not yet tired of him or their life together; why she stood up to all the challenges. She came from good stock.
The foursome kept their conversation over supper light, limiting themselves to questions and answers about the ranch, and the marvelous country surround-ing them. Leatrice suggested adjourning to the parlor for coffee.
“So tomorrow is the cookout,” Tom said, sitting down beside Beth. He occupied more than half of the old flowered couch.
Leatrice and Seth brought in chairs from the kitchen. Dropping into one, Seth explained, “The annual cookout, plus a raise in wages, is the Triple R’s way of saying ‘Thank you for a profitable hard year’s work.’” Running a ranch is much the same as running any other kind of business. A contented employee delivers the best work. I’m sure you’ve heard that theory before.”
“And a wise one,” Tom approved. “My daughter tells me that since the merger of the two ranches, profits have tripled, all due to your conscientious management. Seth grinned, faintly amused. “The term ‘Experience’ would explain it better. With a similar background, Leatrice would be capable of accomplishing the same.” The phone rang. Leatrice answered. She returned from the kitchen with the news, “The men and their families will assemble outside the house tonight so that everyone can ride into the valley below together and camp out by the lake. With a lot of help from our two foremen and the men’s wives, I have a barbecue planned for tomorrow that will knock your boots off.”
She could hardly contain herself. “First thing in the morning, at daybreak, the men go fishing. When they return, the women cook the catch over open fires. Sandwiches are served at noon and a side of beef is hung on a spit to cook slowly in readiness for the evening meal. In the meantime, the families talk, play games, and participate in contests. Sitting around the fire, toasting marshmallows, singing and telling stories is reserved for the night. We also plan a little square dancing. Tanner and Binney have built a wood floor for us near the campsite and coaxed a few of the musical minded hands to form an impromptu band. I only hope the weather stays as lovely as today’s.”
“Will you have to postpone the entire affair if it rains?” Beth asked. “I simply won’t. If it should rain, we’ll all head for the Bar LB. There’s plenty of room at the main house.”
“We’ve run into bad weather before,” Seth explained. The men come prepared. Their camping equipment normally includes tarpaulins and lightweight tents along with sleeping bags.”
“Well, then, we’ve nothing to worry about,” Leatrice said. Had she imagined a note of hostility in Seth’s remark? She tried to read his expression but it told her nothing. The Bar LB as yet did not legally belong to him. It would not be his property until the year was up and her hold on him was loosed. Perhaps her sugges-tion about adjourning to the Bar LB in case of rain had tread on his pride. He was very sensitive in that realm. Leatrice concentrated on pouring herself another cup of coffee and asking if anyone cared for a second also.
The weather held up and after all the tents were pitched by the lake, everyone retired for a good night’s rest. Several of the men, including Seth, took turns standing watch for bears or wolves.
By the time the sun had risen completely in the sky, the men had returned from fishing, and the women cooked the fish. Everyone sat down to a breakfast of fried trout, a variety of cheeses, thick fresh cream and fat homemade biscuits and pitchers of milk and coffee.
Seth was called upon to say Grace. A silence filled the camp as everyone at the tables bowed their heads and joined quietly in prayer. Never one to mince words, his prayer was simple and to the point. Leatrice watched him from the corner of her eye. He thanked the Lord for so much left of the herd after the hard winter, for the munificence before them, and the promise of good times ahead. His closing words touched her deeply. “Lord, continue to hold my loyal men and their families, all my stock and the ranches — and my housekeeper — in the palm of your hand. Amen.” All chorused the “Amen.” Leatrice’s hopes rose. Not in all the months past had she felt that she belonged with him as when he uttered that final prayer. But had he meant it, or had he spoken the words only for the sake of those present?
Time flew. Lunch passed midst chatter and family games, Monopoly one of them. Some of the men played cards. The younger set conducted contests. Leatrice and Seth joined in one or two. The funniest was the race run with a spoon holding a potato. The contestants had to race with the spoon’s handle between their teeth. The first contestant to reach the finish line without dropping the potato was declared the winner. Leatrice and Seth were among the first to lose.
Unmaliced ribbing and honest laughter followed, until late afternoon when the side of beef was proclaimed cooked to perfection and Seth was commis-sioned to carve the meat.
Platters of salads and bread were uncovered, and pitchers filled with beer to overflowing. When the men and their families had done justice to all this abundance, desserts were served, including puddings and jello, and an assortment of pies, home baked of course,
and lots of good strong coffee.
At sunset, the musicians began to play and the well-fed crowd wandered to the dance floor to partner and skip and sway and promenade across the boards to the tune of the caller.
Busy serving punch, Leatrice hardly noticed Seth inviting Linda to dance, but on second glance, the picture defined clearly. The green monster whispered in her ear. Leatrice scoffed at herself. don’t be ridiculous. Seth and she, herself, were the hosts and it was natural for them to mingle with the guests and partner them in dances. Seth had already danced with several of the women. Linda was only the next one in line. So what if she wore a sublime expression. It was just that Seth looked a little too happy. He’d had his fair share of the beer.
Jealously hollered in her ear. Slowly, deliberately, Leatrice removed her apron and walked over to the dancing couple. She tapped Linda on the shoulder. “May I cut in?” she asked, her gaze cold like blue-tinted ice pellets, daring Linda to refuse.
If looks could kill, then both women should have dropped to the floor lifeless. Linda, however, who had drunk her fair share of the beer as well, chose only to grin insidiously and tell Leatrice to go to hell. The green monster roared in Leatrice’s ear. Without remorse, she ground Linda’s foot under hers.
Linda squealed, dragging her foot free and rubbing it vigorously against her leg. “Are you going to let her get away with that?” she demanded, looking up at Seth, who watched the two mildly amused.
“What’s wrong, dear,” Leatrice drawled. “Too much dancing make your feet hurt?”
“Bitch!” Linda swore at her.
“How would you care for a punch in the jaw?” Leatrice threatened, drawing back her fist to do just that.
Seth grabbed her arm before she could make good her threat. “Is a slinging match on the program as well?” he asked.
“She’s a snake,” Leatrice hissed.
“Maybe we should take a walk near the lake,” Seth suggested, firmly escorting Leatrice off the dance floor.