White River Brides

by Frances Devine

  Addy clicked her tongue. “We need to finish up what we’re doing and leave. Ma will be expecting us home soon.”

  Tuck glanced around. Baskets and tables stood neatly against the walls. Festoons of autumn colors were draped across the rafters and over tables. All they’d need to do was set up food tables the day of the festival. Then toward the close of the day, everything would go back against the walls to make room for the auction. Hal Swanson was the best auctioneer in three counties. Tuck could almost hear the rhythm of his voice and words now.

  “Why, Abby, your face is flushed and you look so excited.” Addy’s eyes twinkled. “Are you looking forward to the festival?”

  “I am excited. It’ll be fun to have a party again.” And to stroll around outside on Sam’s arm, watching the shooting gallery and the ring toss. Or maybe she’d even allow him to hold her hand. She hoped he wouldn’t have something to do at the last minute to prevent his coming to the shindig.

  Rafe stood beside the wagon and waited for his mother to come out of the Jenkinses’ barn. His breath caught as Addy stepped out followed by Tuck. When she saw him she waved, said something to Addy, and then headed his way. His heart thumped so loudly he could almost hear it. He sure hoped she couldn’t.

  “Hi there, Rafe. Haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks.” She gave him an accusing glance.

  Now why would she accuse him? “Not my fault. Every time I go to your place, you’re off somewhere with Sam Fields.” He hadn’t seen her except at church since the day they’d gone fishing. He’d been hopeful after the good time they’d had together, but the very next day, he’d seen her making simpering eyes at the doctor.

  “Well, after all, Rafe, he’s practically my fiancé.” She turned her head, and a hank of kinky blond hair escaped from the bone pin holding it in a knot at the back of her neck.

  “Practically?” That sounded hopeful. “So, is he or isn’t he?”

  “He hasn’t actually asked me yet.” She tossed her head. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

  He slumped against the wagon as she stomped off after her sister. He’d done it again. She’d looked happy until he had to go and spoil it by being sarcastic. He straightened and forced a smile as his mother stepped out of the barn and moseyed across the yard. She must be tired. Her usual stride was lively as a young’un’s.

  After his ma was seated and he’d climbed up beside her, she reached over and patted his hand. “What’s wrong, dear? Why do you look so sad?”

  Rafe sighed. Why did he even try to fool her? “Sorry, Ma. It’s nothing.”

  She jiggled her fingers at Tuck and Addy as they drove past their wagon. “Rayford. Abby is a sweet girl, and I know you care for her. But she seems to have made her choice. I can’t bear to see you suffering so. Especially when there are half a dozen girls standing in line for your attention.”

  He sighed. “Ma, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”

  “I know and I won’t, but I was just thinking about Carrie Sue Anderson. She’s a very nice girl and pretty, too.” She gave him a teasing smile and tapped him on the leg with her reticule. “And I know she’s sweet on you.”

  “Ma, no matchmaking. Please.” He knew he might as well be talking to the side of a barn. Ma thought he felt rejected and so she had to fix it for him.

  She was dead right about his feeling rejected. He couldn’t deny that. But he was pretty sure no one could fix it for him. Not even pretty, blond Carrie Sue with her enormous blue eyes and a dimple beside her mouth that just begged to be kissed. Tuck had ruined him for every other woman; no one else was like her. Whoever else he’d marry would always play second fiddle to Tuck.

  He shook his head and flicked the reins to speed up the horses. He wouldn’t coat his hurt ego by wooing another girl. Wouldn’t be fair to her…whoever she might be. No, his original plan was better. He’d head down to Arkansas and join the railroad crew that was laying ties for the White River Line. By the time he worked his way back to these parts, Tuck would have married Sam Fields and it would be over and done with.

  Pain knifed his heart. He stopped at the front step and helped Ma out of the wagon, then headed for the barn to do evening chores before supper.

  Tuck had always made fun of girls who swooned over a man. She’d scoffed and accused them of pretending. Now she wasn’t so sure.

  The feathery touch of Sam’s lips brushing across her hand sent shivers through her body. She was pretty sure she was close to swooning herself.

  “You’re looking lovely today, my dear.” Sam smiled, making no move to release her hand.

  “Th–thank…” She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

  He’d driven over to the farm in his new carriage, and now that supper was over, the two of them stood on the front porch watching the sunset.

  “I thought perhaps you’d like to go for a drive.” He squeezed her hand.

  With a little tug, she gently removed it from his. After all, they weren’t engaged yet. “I don’t know. It will be dark soon.” And Ma wouldn’t approve at all.

  “Just a short drive then. We have plenty of time before it’s actually dark.” He gazed down at her, his eyes almost piercing her.

  Fire shot through her body. How could he have such an effect on her? She shuddered. And how could he be so charming one moment and so disturbing the next? “I don’t know, Sam.”

  A shadow crossed his face. “I’ve barely seen you at all lately, with my trips and medical practice. I would think you’d want to spend time with me.”

  Tuck bit her lip. She wasn’t easily intimidated but felt almost powerless against his aggressive personality. She wanted to break free, and then again, she didn’t. A part of her wanted to follow him wherever he wished to lead her.

  “All right. Let me tell Ma and Pa we’re leaving.”

  “Nonsense. We’ll be back in a flash. They’ll never even know we were gone.”

  Tuck sighed and surrendered. “All right. If you promise to bring me home in just a few minutes.”

  His face smoothed, and once more he flashed a bright smile. “Of course.” He placed his hand beneath her elbow and helped her down the steps, as though she hadn’t been running up and down them since she was a little girl.

  She was pretty sure she could manage them without help. She was just about to step up into the carriage, when the front door opened and Pa stalked out onto the porch.

  “What’s going on here?” He glanced at Tuck then turned thunderous eyes on Sam.

  Sam gave a nervous laugh. “We were only going for a short drive in my new carriage. I thought she would enjoy it.”

  Pa studied Sam for a moment. “I think you’d better wait for another time. It will be dark shortly.”

  Oh dear, this hadn’t been a good idea at all. Pa looked like he was ready to knock Sam off the porch. She’d better do something. “Thank you so much, Sam, for coming to supper. I’d better get inside now. See you at church Sunday?” She made her voice as cheerful as she could and smiled brightly.

  Sam nodded and bowed, then climbed into the carriage. Another shadow eclipsed his face, making her shudder.

  With a troubled countenance, Papa Jack watched him drive away then turned and smiled at Tuck. “Let’s go inside. Your ma wanted to ask your opinion about something.”

  She found Ma and Addy bent over the kitchen table peering at some fabric samples.

  “Oh, there you are, Tuck.” Ma looked up. “Come help us decide on dress colors for the Christmas ball. Would you like this evergreen shade? Or perhaps this cranberry color?”

  Tuck laughed. Ma always had such a delightful way of describing things. Never just red or green. “Isn’t it a little early to decide? It’s only October. We haven’t had the harvest festival yet.”

  “But Christmastime will be here before we know it.” Ma smiled, her eyes sparkling. Tuck wasn’t sure if it was because of the baby or because Christmas was so near. Probably both.

  Ma loved everything ab
out Christmas. So did Rafe. Every year Ma and Mrs. Collins filled baskets for some of the neighbors, especially the older folks, and Tuck and Rafe delivered them. Her heart fluttered at the thought. Then she sighed. Another tradition she’d have to give up if she married Sam.

  Perhaps Sam liked Christmas, too. If not, if he brooded, or worse still, made fun of their traditions, it would ruin it for her. But why wouldn’t he like Christmas? She was being silly again. She didn’t know why she allowed so many negative thoughts about Sam to enter her head lately.

  Chapter 11

  But Sam, you just got back from a week in St. Louis and now you’re leaving again? You’ll miss the festival.” Tears threatened to spill over, and Tuck blinked hard, anger rising within her. She never cried. Well, hardly ever. She’d cried on Rafe’s shoulder a few times, but that was different. And she cried sometimes when she got mad. Like now.

  She’d ridden into town to pick up some sugar for Ma, and Sam had asked her to come to his office. Happy for his attention, she’d complied, only to be greeted with the news he had to go to Kansas City for two weeks.

  “I know, sweetheart.” He sounded as dejected as she felt, and her heart quickened at his use of the endearment. “But it can’t be helped. My mother isn’t as strong as she used to be and needs help with some business matters. I can’t ignore her needs, now can I?”

  Oh, he’d never mentioned his mother. Guilt bit at her. Hadn’t she only recently promised God she wouldn’t be so selfish? Here Sam was, trying to be a dutiful son, and she could only think about going to the festival without him. “Oh, of course not. Please forgive me. Certainly you must go to your mother’s assistance.”

  Relief washed over his face. He took a step toward her, then darted a glance at the open door and stepped back. “I knew you would understand, my dear.”

  Amusement cut through Tuck’s disappointment. Sam knew Mr. Hawkins would be watching and listening as long as Tuck was in the office.

  “When will you leave?” Ma had given permission to invite him for supper. At the time, Tuck hadn’t even been sure she wanted to invite him, but now, disappointment washed over her. What was wrong with her anyway? She was turning into a double-minded simpleton where Sam was concerned.

  “This afternoon, I’m afraid. I need to visit a family on the Forsyth road this morning. But I’ll have to leave right afterwards.” He smiled. “I can’t wait to tell Mother about you. And when I return we’ll do something special. I promise.”

  Her heart fluttered. She loved it when he was sweet like this. It didn’t happen often enough to suit her. Quickly she pushed the thought away. After all, he was busy and had the care of most of the county on his shoulders. Perhaps she expected too much of him.

  She returned Sam’s smile. “That sounds wonderful. And don’t worry about the festival. I’ll go with my family and spend time with Addy and Rafe.”

  His eyes flashed with irritation. “I don’t know why you have to hang around Rafe. How do you think that makes me feel? After all, you and I practically have an understanding.”

  That was news to her, but good news nevertheless. Satisfaction rippled through her. He really did care for her. She hadn’t been sure before.

  “Oh, Sam.” She laughed. “Rafe and I have been best friends since we were children. There’s never been anything more than that between us.”

  “Then I’m very sorry I allowed my jealousy to show. I know I can trust you. Now, my dear, I do need to make my rounds, so you need to run along.” He took her hand and squeezed. “The two weeks will pass quickly. You’ll see.”

  Being summarily dismissed, Tuck left his office and did her shopping, then stood outside the store and glanced around. This was practice day, and Tuck had missed her last two sessions with the oldsters. She always dropped whatever she was doing when Sam wanted her to do something with him. The troubling thought hit her unexpectedly. But he had so little free time and naturally they wanted to spend it together. She frowned. Still, he never seemed to mind that she would give up something important to her every time he showed up.

  She retrieved her fiddle from beneath the wagon seat and headed over to the feed store. Mr. Willie and the rest were tuning up.

  “Hey. Would you look here at what the cat drug in.” Squeezebox slapped his leg and grinned good-naturedly in Tuck’s direction.

  “ ’Bout time, too.” Tom tried to look stern, but his sudden coughing spasm ruined the effect.

  “I guess I could turn around and leave if you all don’t want me here.” Oh, there she went again. Snapping at them when she knew very well they were just teasing.

  “Naw, don’t leave,” Mr. Willie soothed. He was always afraid someone would hurt her feelings. “They’re jest foolin’, Tuck.”

  Tuck looked up at the sky for a moment. “Well, all right. I reckon I’ll stay then.”

  Squeezebox cackled. “All righty then, get her tuned up, girl. We ain’t got all day.”

  Tom snorted. “Why not? You don’t do anything else but lay around your shack snoring all day. You and that hound of yours.”

  “Hank don’t snore.” At the sound of his name, a flop-eared hound dog raised his head about an inch from the floor and then plopped it back down. Squeezebox scratched him behind one ear and then picked up his accordion.

  Tuck removed her violin from the case and tuned up. “Okay, did we decide which one we’re doing first?”

  “I thought we’d start with ‘Frog Went A-Courtin’ ” and then ‘Old Joe Clark.’ Get everyone good and stirred up for the fun,” Mr. Willie said. “That way, they’ll likely buy more stuff and the ladies will have more money for the Christmas dance.”

  “Good thinking, Mr. Willie.” Tuck grinned as she placed a soft cloth on her shoulder and her violin beneath her chin.

  They ran through the two songs then went into a few more numbers they planned to play at the festival. Right in the middle of a soft rendition of “Sweet Adeline,” a thunderous snore roared from Hank’s direction, followed by the dog jumping up and howling loud and long.

  The roar of laughter that followed nearly drowned out the dog.

  Rafe swung the ax down hard, splitting the short logs for Ma’s cookstove. Some of the neighbors were using oil stoves to cook on, but Ma said absolutely not. They’d have to be a sight better than they were now before she’d give up her woodstove. Rafe chuckled. Fine with him. The smell of bacon and eggs frying on that old stove was about the most tantalizing thing he’d ever had a sniff of. Except maybe Ma’s fried chicken.

  Horse’s hooves sounded on the lane leading to the house. Rafe looked up. Tuck was almost lying down on Sweet Pea’s neck as she urged her forward. That girl was going to break her neck one of these days if she didn’t stop riding so hard. She’d gone flying a few times before, luckily escaping with scrapes and bruises.

  “You trying to kill yourself or something?” He frowned as Tuck jumped down and sauntered toward him, a big grin on her face.

  “You should talk. Who’s the one who broke his collarbone twice and his arm three times, and what caused it?”

  “Hey, one of those broken arms was from falling out of a tree. You know that.” But he grinned.

  “Of course, I remember.” She cocked her head and grinned. “But you were practicing jumping into the saddle from the branch of the old oak in the middle of our pasture. So it still involved a reckless act with a horse.”

  She had a point. “Okay, we’re both lucky to be alive with all the shenanigans we pulled.”

  Laughing, she punched him on the arm. “Yep. You can say that again.”

  “Where’s your fancy dress and hair geegaws?”

  She shrugged. “No sense in torturing myself when Sam’s not around to see me, is there?”

  “Oh, the fancy doctor’s gone again?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She planted her hands on her hips and glared. “He has a perfectly good reason for being gone. Just like he always does.”

  Rafe snorted. “
Listen to yourself, Tuck. Like he always does?”

  “If you’re going to make insinuations about Sam, I’m leaving.” She spun around and stomped back to her horse.

  Rafe exhaled loudly. Lately, all he seemed to do when they were together was to rile her up. “Come on, Tuck. Don’t leave. I’m sorry, okay?”

  She jumped on her horse. “Sure you are. I can see it all over you. I guess you forgot I told you I’m going to marry him. If you dislike him that much, I guess we can’t be friends.” She wheeled Sweet Pea around then yelled back over her shoulder, “And for your information, he’s in Kansas City helping out his mother.”

  Rafe loaded up his arms with logs and stalked toward the house. Fine. If she could sling their friendship away that easily, so could he. There was no way he could pretend to like Sam Fields. He dumped the logs in the wooden box by the stove.

  His mother looked up from the pan of potatoes she was slicing. “I thought I heard Abby. Didn’t you invite her in?”

  “She had to leave, Ma. I’m going over to the cave. I’ll finish up the chores when I get back.” He gave her a peck on the cheek.

  As Champ’s hooves thundered down the road, Rafe attempted to get his thoughts under control. He reckoned, somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d always figured he’d marry Tuck. There was no one else he’d rather be around. No one else who could make him laugh those roaring side-splitting howls of joy. No one who could calm him down with a word and melt his heart.

  But that was then. Tuck had made her choice, and there was no use making himself miserable by thinking about it.

  Anger roiled inside him. Who needed her? There were dozens of girls he could have. Carrie Sue’s sweet smile crossed his thoughts. She had curls as yellow as a sunflower and eyes as blue as a spring sky. Also a sweet disposition. She wouldn’t drive a man crazy with her wild and willful ways the way Tuck did. No sir. Carrie Sue would be there for her man and treat him the way a man wanted to be treated by his woman.