The 12 Brides Of Summer (Novella Collection Book 4)

by Vickie McDonough

  “Doing what?”

  “Fixing the barn. Maybe he’s fallen on hard times and needs the help of Christians.” Had she said that? She had no money for wages.

  “How will you pay him?”

  “I—I was thinking about that. I won’t.” Not only wouldn’t she pay him, she couldn’t, and Pete knew it. Still something nudged her to offer this man a place. Oma always said to listen to the voice in your heart because it was probably God nudging you.

  “I ain’t workin’ for free.” The words were slurred, but the message clear.

  “Mister, the only pay you’ll receive is a place to lay your head, and meals. When Mr. Dent feels you’re sober and worth paying, he’ll help you find a job.” Katie licked her lips. She’d never been so nervous speaking words that made sense. Maybe she needed a second chance to prove herself, too.

  “Don’t take orders from a woman either.” The man spat on the porch.

  Pete let go of him. He tumbled, landing on the glob of tobacco he’d just spat. “First thing you’ll do is clean up this mess. Then a bath. We’ll work on manners while you’re here.”

  “Where do you think he’s going to be sleeping, Miss Tucker?” Pete glanced down at the man then back to her. “I don’t imagine you want him in the house any more than you wanted me.”

  “Why, he can sleep on the porch, next to you, as you seem to find that a reasonable place to lay your head at night.”

  “They can sleep in my room.” Henry stood on the bottom step, making him taller than his sister. “That way I can keep an eye on both of them, protecting you and Oma.”

  Katie’s heart fluttered. She wanted Henry to feel like the man of the house, but his suggestion that both of those men—one of them drunk—should sleep down the hall from her. . . .

  “Nonsense.” Oma had come up behind her. “Henry, if you want to sleep with them, you can sleep out here, too. Mr. Dent, I’d get that man scrubbed clean before morning. He’ll need some clean clothes. Don’t suppose he’s brought any with him?”

  “I’ve no idea. We’ll ask him later.” Pete scratched his head. “Looks about my size. Guess it would be the Christian thing to loan him something to wear while his get washed.”

  Katie looked back at the man on the porch. His eyes were closed and he snored. He didn’t seem quite so scary. “Oma, it is almost morning.”

  “Then there’s no time to waste. Let’s get water on the stove. Henry, you and Pete drag the washtub out close to the pump and start filling it. Once that’s done, drag him over. Doesn’t matter to me if he goes in with his clothes. Might as well wash everything at once.” She took Katie’s arm. “We’ll get ready for the day. After breakfast, we’ll decide if we need to send him on his way or give him another chance.”

  “Time to wake up.” Pete roused W.D. enough to stand, but not for long from the way he wobbled. Pete draped an arm around his neck to support him and half dragged, half carried him to the waiting tub. He would enjoy watching W.D.’s face when his body hit the water. “Stand back, Henry. He’s going to wake up mad.”

  Standing W.D. at the end of the tub, Pete let go. The man fell backward into the cold water.

  “What in the—”

  Pete plunged his hands into the water and grabbed W.D. by his shoulders, pulling his face close to his. “Watch your mouth, or you’ll be walking back to town in soggy britches.”

  W.D. relaxed.

  Figuring the fight had left him, Pete let go and stepped back. “Humph. You’ve landed in a soft place for sure. Anyone else would’ve sent you to jail.”

  The screen slammed behind Henry. “Katie sent soap. Sorry Mister, it isn’t Saturday but she said you had to scrub like it was.” He handed him a small sliver instead of a bar. “She said to keep this. If you need more, I’m to get it.”

  W.D. grimaced and took it. “I didn’t want to put anyone out, just wanted a job.”

  “And you’ve got one, but first you have to prove your worth.” Pete didn’t like the idea of this man hanging around Katie, but right now she called the shots. “Soon as you’re clean and scrubbed, we’ll get started building a lean-to, where we’ll both sleep.”

  “I have clothes in my pack. I had it last night. Did you see it?” W.D. unbuttoned the top of his shirt. “Wouldn’t feel too good to walk around in wet clothes. As hot as it is already, by noon, I’ll be steaming like a kettle.”

  “Didn’t see one. Henry, you mind running down the lane? Take a look. See if he dropped it.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be quick.” Henry took off.

  Pete glared at W.D. “I’d rather not, but I’ll loan you clothes if yours can’t be found.”

  W.D. nodded. “Appreciate that.”

  “Now that you’re sobering up, you and me are going to converse.” Pete straightened, rubbed his hand through his hair, missing his hat. Without it, he didn’t feel dressed. He stared at W.D. Something about him seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place the man.

  “You mind if I wash up without you gawking at me?” W.D. had stopped undressing.

  “Just want to make sure you’re fit for the job and you don’t leave until we’ve had our chat.”

  “I ain’t going anywhere. That’s the point of me being here, remember? I came to get the job I was offered.”

  “And it’s up to me if you stay.”

  In the kitchen, Katie hovered near the doorway, trying to listen. Her fingernails found their place between her front teeth.

  “Katie, stop worrying those fingers. You’ll have them bleeding again.” Oma tied an apron around her waist. “Let’s get breakfast made. The coffee’s about ready. When Henry comes in, we’ll send him out with some. That will help that man clear his head.”

  “I’m not sure one cup will be enough. I’ve never seen anything like that. A man fallen down, so drunk, he goes to sleep with his face in a wad of chewed tobacco.” Katie slipped her apron over her head. “Did I do the right thing? What if he is more than a drunk? What if he’s dangerous and will murder us while we sleep?”

  Oma patted her cheek. “Schatzi, Mr. Dent is here. If he thinks the man needs to leave, he’ll tell us. I think God put those earlier words in your mouth.”

  “Why?”

  “Because usually such things make you chew your fingers. Instead, God opened your mouth and you offered Christian charity.” She spun Katie around and tied her apron strings.

  “I never would’ve thought of it that way.” Her hand went back to her mouth, but she forced it away. She needed to change. She could no longer allow the things that scared her to keep her from being who God meant her to be. “Oma, would you pray God will make me more courageous, like Rahab?”

  “The harlot? It’s an odd thing to ask for, but yes, I will ask God, as I have many times, to give you calm nerves.” Her wiry eyebrows scrunched together. “Make no mistake, that’s the only thing I’m praying for. Rahab turned out to be a blessing, but we don’t need to have you imitating her early ways.”

  “Oma! I’d never!”

  “See that you don’t. I believe once W.D. gets cleaned up, he and Mr. Dent are going to be fighting to see who wins your hand. And you’ll see W.D. is going to be every bit as good looking as Mr. Dent.”

  Katie felt the warmth rising in her cheeks. “What a thing to say! They won’t have any interest in me, you’ll see.” But what if they did? She wanted Mr. Dent to be the winner. Dare she hope to imagine what it would feel like to be a bride? She twisted a loose curl in her hand. No. She’d buried that desire. No use lighting the fire of hope now. She stuck the wayward tress back into the bun where it belonged.

  CHAPTER 7

  She’d wrestled all night, asking God to help her make a choice between searching trees for beehives and being a waitress. No heavenly directions came. She had to choose. The fear of one had to be less than the other. God, please, there has to be another way. Again she was met with silence. Looking for work at the diner won. Katie made it to town, her shoes coated in dust, but she hoped tha
t wouldn’t keep her from getting hired. With the weight equal to an anvil on each of her shoulders, she pushed through the door.

  The smells, smoke, and sudden silence of forks no longer clanking against plates greeted her, turning her stomach. Every eye was directed her way. Her hands shook at her sides. She clasped them together, holding them close to her chin—then realized she must look as if she were getting ready to lead everyone in prayer. Slowly she relaxed her grip and let her hands slide against her skirt, where they had been.

  “Miss Tucker? Are you here for breakfast?”

  Penny Otto. They had gone to school together. The heaviness on Katie’s shoulders slid away as she walked to the counter where her friend stood. “No.” Her gaze fell from Penny to the pine plank floor. “I’m looking for work.”

  “Are you sure? The only need we have is for the breakfast shift. You’d have to take orders and serve food to a rough group of hard-to-work-with men. You’ll have to talk to a lot of men that like to flirt with pretty girls.”

  Katie searched her friend’s face and saw concern. Or was it doubt that she could do the job? “Will you be here?”

  “Every day but Sunday.”

  “I’d like to try.”

  “It doesn’t pay much, and the work is harder than you’re used to.” Penny’s face flushed. “I don’t mean you can’t do it. It’s like harvest time every morning, and I know you’ve done that.”

  “Harvest is only one time a year.”

  “Yes, and this comes every day. And on each one, there is someone who will take a likin’ to you and make you miserable, and there won’t be anything you can do but smile, rebuff them, and refill their coffee cup.”

  “Why do you do it then?”

  “When I told Papa I’m picking my own husband, he said I had to work here, because sitting around the house cost him money.” Penny wiped at the counter with a rag. “I’ll be leaving as soon as I find the right man. So, do you think you can be here before the sun rises?”

  “You don’t have to ask your father first?”

  “No. But don’t think Papa will let you stay if you can’t do the work.” Penny frowned. “He’ll make you leave, in front of everyone, if you don’t get the orders right. Papa’s a bit,” she leaned in and whispered, “difficult to work for sometimes.”

  Pete had worked on the barn all morning with W.D. and Henry. Katie had left early, looking like she’d drunk a pint of sour milk.

  “Henry, where’d Katie go?”

  “She’s looking for a job at the diner.” Henry wiped the sweat from his forehead and then handed some nails to Pete. “You know why, right?” He kept his voice low, as if he didn’t want W.D. to hear.

  “Because she needs money. She ought to do well waiting tables.” Pete pounded a nail into the board that sided the barn.

  “Doubt it. She doesn’t like to be around people. That’s why Papa bought the bees, so she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone.”

  “Bees? He paid for the bees buzzing around the rose bushes?”

  “Yes, sir. That and a bunch of stuff that goes with making them stay on our farm. He was going to show me how to take care of them this summer.” Henry’s eyes filled with tears. “Guess that ain’t going to happen.”

  Pete looked away to allow Henry time to clear his eyes without embarrassment. He put in a few more nails. The barn was coming together, but he still wasn’t happy about W.D. being here. So far they’d worked fine together, as long as they worked on opposite sides of the barn, but at some point they were going to meet in the middle.

  “I don’t get it. What do the bees have to do with Katie? And with her not liking bein’ around people?”

  “Papa bought them for Katie because she’d told him about how making honey and selling it could bring in good money, and he knew she wouldn’t ever get married because, well—you know.”

  “No, I don’t. Explain it to me. What’s wrong with her?” Pete’s heart cracked a little for Katie’s pain. It must hurt her something fierce to know her family thought she wouldn’t get married.

  “She can’t talk to anyone without getting all shaky inside, especially anyone who’s come to court her. She gets all red in the face, bursts into tears, and gets a headache.” Henry shook his head.

  Pete almost laughed. Katie was shy, but that didn’t mean she’d never get married. She hadn’t met the man who could get her talking. Though she’d talked to him and W.D. this past week. Could it be she didn’t see either of them as being the marrying kind? He’d have to change her mind.

  “Katie is a sensitive creature, Papa said, and we had to help her find a way to take care of herself. Guess it’s up to me now to figure out how to do that.”

  “She doesn’t like bees.” Pete’s memory had him back with her in his arms, the day she ran from one.

  “No. She’s scared of them. She got stung, before any of the bees and equipment came to raise them. Papa never told her about them, afraid she wouldn’t leave the house if she knew they were living by the creek.”

  “Doesn’t she ever go there?”

  “Nope, I told her that’s my special place, and I don’t want no girls there.” Henry frowned. “Papa said I might want to take a girl there someday. But he was wrong.”

  “I think your papa knew what he was talking about. It’s all about the right time for things to happen.”

  But Mr. Tucker was wrong about Katie. Pete had an even stronger desire to reach out, protect, and love her, as soon as he broke through her turtle-tough shell.

  Pete and Henry stood at the edge of the clearing, near Sugar Creek. Pete counted twelve hives. “Your pa must have thought this bee business would work.

  “He said it would make us a lot of money once the honey gets out of those hives.” Henry tugged Pete’s arm. “I ain’t afraid of a bee like Katie, but I figure there’s hundreds of them in those boxes.”

  “Might be. Did you say there is a hat?”

  “Papa bought all kinds of stuff.”

  “It wasn’t in the barn, was it?” If it were then getting what they needed would cost. How much, he didn’t know.

  “I thought it was, but I found it in the woodshed. Katie never goes in there, so I’m guessing that’s why Papa put it there. There’s a book in Papa’s office on how to get the honey out of those hives.” Henry frowned. “It probably has big words that I don’t know. You know how to read?”

  Though taken aback by the question, Pete had a feeling he shouldn’t laugh. He’d been taught to read at the orphanage. In fact, he liked reading. “Sure do. Think you can get that book for me?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll get it now, while Katie is gone. I don’t want her to see it. We don’t want to upset her—that’s what Papa always said.”

  Pete couldn’t understand why Henry and his father thought Katie was so weak. He’d seen her during the fire, and then again, telling W.D. to go away. She hadn’t seemed sensitive then. But Henry was in charge, so he wouldn’t insist on telling Katie. Yet.

  “Have you figured out what we’ll do with the honey? We can’t hide that from her.”

  “Nope. Guess I’ll need to do some thinking on it.” Henry grinned. “I know she’ll be happy when we show her the bees. She thinks Papa let them go.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Heavy knives scraped against china plates, and male voices rumbled around Katie. Her hair slid out of its pins. This morning she’d left before sunrise. Oma agreed to handle breakfast while Katie worked, though she had to listen to another lecture about trusting God and not rushing before answers were clear.

  So far she had backed away from a man who said she smelled nice and asked her to come closer so he could get a good whiff of her, and another who winked and mentioned the better the service, the bigger his tip. Both encounters made her skin itch. Why hadn’t she waited for God’s answer? Because she was in charge of taking care of the family, that’s why. God had only brought two extra mouths to feed. Shame filled her. She was grateful to Alma for sending Pete. It
was the other one she’d like to send away.

  “Missy. My coffee’s cold.” The man she’d nicknamed Mr. Cold Cup pounded the table, making the silverware jump.

  It was the third time she’d refilled that man’s cup since he’d come in. She gave him a half grin. “I’ll be right there.” Several plates waited on the ledge behind the counter—her orders were up. Every time she turned, more platters waited. Penny was right. This was harder than harvest. There hadn’t been one woman come in this morning.

  “Hard time keeping up?” Penny handed her two plates, filled with eggs, potatoes, and bacon.

  “The man in the corner seems to need a lot of coffee.” The smell of the bacon toyed with the hunger in her stomach. She hadn’t had time for breakfast before leaving home.

  “He’s trying to make you cry. He’s done that with everyone we’ve hired.” Penny snatched the coffee urn. “I’ll take care of him. Get those platters where they belong, then hang back and watch.”

  “You bothering my waitress, Robert?” Penny strolled over to his table.

  “She’s not fast enough. My coffee’s cold.” He held up his cup.

  Penny tipped the pot. “Drink faster and leave the help alone. I can’t afford to lose anyone, so be nice like your mother taught you.”

  Robert smirked. “I’d be plenty nice for you, Penny.” He tugged the side of her apron.

  Penny grazed the hot pot against his arm.

  He yanked away his hand. “Careful, missy.”

  “That goes both ways. I’m not here for you to be touching. I’m not your wife, and no, before you ask, I have no interest in marrying you.”

  Katie watched with horror. She’d never be able to act or speak like that to anyone.

  “I heard Dent’s buying the Tucker place. I guess that’s why Katie’s working here.”

  Hearing her name, she stilled. Not wanting to take part in the whispered conversation, she tried to move on, but couldn’t. She didn’t know the raspy-voiced man and wanted to know why he had said that.