“Well, she never got a chance to say, did she?”
Hayden shook his head. “No, I guess she didn’t. But she was good and kind.”
“And look where that got her? Boy, you got to take what you want from this world. Take it and not look back because others will be trying to take it from you. So, no, you can’t take Cole with you. Besides, most of the citizens like us. We give as much as we take.”
“Cole’s old enough to say for himself. He’s not like you and Greg. He’s more like Ma.”
His father grabbed his shirt and brought him within inches of his scraggly, bearded face. “He’s nothing like her. He’s my son just like you’re my son. Remember that, Hayden. If you had any guts, you’d stay with us and even the score. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re a coward.”
Hayden bristled, but he held back the anger that wanted to lash out at his father. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He yanked out of his father’s grasp and threw his bedroll on the ground near the fire. “I’m tired. Leave me alone.”
The old man kicked his foot. “For now. Soon enough, we’re going to come to a reckoning, me and you.”
Hayden didn’t answer but shoved his hat down over his eyes wishing he could blot out his father as easily. He’d been a fool to come back. He should have gone west, and he would as soon as he rested his horse a few days.
***
Penelope left the happy home and couldn’t bear the thought of walking to her own. She should be married by now or at least engaged. Dale had looked at her once and smiled. He was a good candidate. Hard worker. He and his father showed up at church at least once a month. She understood the hard rigors of ranch work and didn’t fault them for missing, at least not too much.
She gazed at the general store and saw the Hawkins’ wagon out front. Today was the day they came to town for supplies. Penelope glanced at the window before entering the store to see that she looked presentable.
Penelope smiled. She was pretty. Had a good figure, her hair was a striking red, and her green eyes sparkled. Any man should be happy with her. By contrast with Martha’s looks and there was no comparison. The store owner’s daughter wore glasses, still had pimples, and was already plump. If Dale had eyes, he’d see that she was prettier than Martha.
With her hand on the door, Penelope did admit that the one thing Martha had was friends. Everyone liked her. Penelope prayed Dale would be inside, and then she pulled open door. She walked under the tinkling bell and scanned the store for him. She couldn’t miss his tall frame towering over the bin of potatoes.
Dale was a handsome man. Dark hair. Smart and hard working. He’d make a good match. It was time she got on with a life of her own. Her parents would just have to learn to get along without her.
Penelope went to the potato bin and picked up a spud. “These look nice.”
Dale had been looking toward the window, he turned and smiled. “Yes, they do.”
She held the potato so tight she hoped she wouldn’t squeeze it out of her hand. Penelope was so anxious when talking to others. Especially men. “I was wondering, I make a wonderful potato soup. Would you like to come over for dinner?”
“Me and Pa had plans.” He looked at her and grinned. “I’ll ask him, though.”
“Please do.” She gently set the potato down, and then realized she needed potatoes to make the soup. She took a bag and put in ten of the nicest potatoes, and then looked at the carrots.
With a last smile toward Dale, Penelope went to the counter and paid for her produce. She should engage in more small talk, but she had to get home to make supper. Besides, she’d just never been good at the idle talk of conversations.
Her sisters could talk the ear off a cornstalk. Angela and Mary were friendly and cute and already had a stream of young men coming around for them. Penelope sighed. She’d never had a man come around for her.
Tonight, she’d watch her sisters and see what they did. She could learn. And she’d listen to the conversations. Penelope was not going to be left the old maid sister. No sir. She’d already seen the anxious looks between her parents concerning her.
One thing she didn’t want was the new preacher in Chico. He was as knobby-kneed as a new-born colt and just as clumsy. She’d overheard Mother and Father discussing a possible match for her. Penelope was a preacher’s daughter, and that was enough. She didn’t want to be a preacher’s wife.
Dale held more promise of the kind of man she wanted. She’d never told anyone, but she’d dreamed of a tall man with dark hair. He would be strong and brave and protect and provide for her. Penelope looked around to make sure no one was watching her. She was almost embarrassed to even dream about the man she wanted.
At the door, she stopped and turned. “I’ll expect you at six for dinner.”
Dale looked up. “If my pa agrees, we’ll be there.”
Outside, Penelope huffed. A man who had to ask his father was not exactly what she had in mind for her future husband. Then she laughed. Well, he was better than the man father and mother were considering.
She couldn’t even remember his name other than the preacher in Chico. But she’d met him once. He was tall, and his hair was carrot red. His eyes green and piercing. And he was one of the most awkward men she’d ever met. Not that she was the most graceful woman in Duston or even on her street, but Penelope was like a swan compared to his mud duck ways.
Yes, it was right that she was striking out and purposing to catch the man of her dreams. The man she chose and not the one her parents got for her. She imagined Preacher Chico to be like a stray dog wandering the streets. That her parent thought he would be a good match for her didn’t say much about her prospects.
Feeling proud of herself, Penelope ran into the house to start the soup. She was a wonder in the kitchen. At least, that’s what Father often said as she sat down to eat. With a wink at her, he would say, “Wonder what this is.”
Normally Penelope laughed, but it was beginning to get annoying. How would she get a man worth his salt with Father’s jokes at her expense? She ran up the walk to her home and rushed to the kitchen. She’d just put the potatoes on to boil when her parents walked in the front door.
“Penelope, we have a guest for dinner.”
Thinking they must have brought the widow home for a meal made Penelope a little irritated. Here she’d just went out to ask Dale over for dinner and now they’d have the widow with them. The poor woman was beside herself with grief and close to the same age as Penelope. What Penelope didn’t need was more competition. So much for a fun, lighthearted meal with a prospective husband.
“Yes, Mother. I’m in the kitchen making potato soup.”
Her mother walked in and began examining the dinner. “I think you need a little more salt. Potatoes absorb so much.”
“Yes, Mother.” Penelope tried to keep her eyes from rolling but failed as she saw the kitchen ceiling turn to the floor. She needed to show her mother respect, but at times it was difficult. Penelope sipped the water and agreed, the salt she put in wasn’t enough. Someday she’d learn.
Mother put on her apron. “We have a chicken the widow gave us. She’s such a delight. So strong even with her husband’s passing less than a year ago. I think she’s ready to move on and perhaps find a new husband.”
“Mother! She shouldn’t remarry so early. I thought she was grieving.”
“Oh, she’ll grieve for some time, probably for the rest of her life, but life goes on, and she’s ready. She’s only a few years older than you.”
That put chills down Penelope’s back. But Mother was right. Penelope hoped the widow Fryer stayed away from Dale. Perhaps she’d like Preacher Chico.
Mother shooed her from the stove. “I’ll take care of the meal, go to the parlor and help your father with our guest.”
The way Mother said guest, gave Penelope pause. Something was going on, and it concerned her. “I asked Dale and his father over for dinner. I hope you don’t mind?�
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Mother frowned. “Oh, dear. That does present a problem. No worry, it will work out. Go on, and I’ll make dinner.”
Penelope wished she had Mother’s faith. Things would work out was always Mother’s attitude when presented with a problem no matter how big or small. Well, this time Penelope wasn’t so sure. Not that she resented having the widow come for dinner, but that she was looking for a husband and only a few years older than Penelope put her plans to catch Dale in jeopardy.
After taking off her apron, Penelope dutifully went to the parlor. Her father was sitting in his chair, and to his side in her mother’s chair was not the widow Fryer, but Mr. Preacher Chico, flaming red hair and all.
“Daughter, you remember Carl Weatherby. He’s the preacher in Chico.”
With a slight curtsy, Penelope nodded. “Yes, I do. Welcome, Preacher Weatherby.” Offhandedly, she wondered if lying about remembering his name was a big sin but figured it was nothing to the one she was thinking. She wanted more than anything to tell him to leave or better yet seek out the widow Fryer.
Carl escorted her to the divan and proceeded to sit beside her. “Such a delight to meet you again. I’ve thought of you often.”
Plastering a lying smile to her face, Penelope could only pray that Dale and his father would skip her invitation.
A knock on the door told Penelope two things. One, she and God were not on the same friendship level as her mother and the Creator. Two, there was no way she was going to believe this was going to work out. Not for her anyway.
Her father opened the door and welcomed Dale and his father into the house. They shook hands with Carl, and all seemed to be happy to see one another.
Penelope only wished to escape.
Dale looked around the house. “Where is the rest of your family?”
Father looked at Penelope. “Do you know where your brothers and sisters are?”
She very much wanted to say in the caves where you told them not to go, but she didn’t. “They went out. I guess they will be back shortly.”
Dale smiled. Not really at her, but at what she said. Penelope was beginning to get a picture in her mind that she didn’t like. Not at all. Another strike against her mother’s things-will-work-out saying.
Carl took up his place next to her. “Things have been going very well in Chico. I had ten families in church last Sunday.”
Penelope tried to relax and look pleased. “Wonderful.”
Father fixed a gaze on her that let her know she better keep herself under control.
Just then what sounded like a herd of wild mustangs on the steps to the porch signaled her siblings return. Penelope sighed. The widow had given a chicken, but they’d need a flock to feed all these people. And frankly, she didn’t have the faith that God would multiply it even for Mother.
Her sisters entered first. Mary and Sage skipped on past without stopping. Angela, however, stopped in front of Dale. And smiled. Not her happy to see you smile, but a smile she’d seen her sister use whenever she was around young men in town.
Penelope felt her breathing increase and her blood grow hot. This was not right. How dare her sister, who could entice any boy, set her eyes on the man Penelope had asked over. It was not right. Another thing that wasn’t going to work out.
Angela curtsied. “What a pleasant surprise. Are you staying for dinner?”
Dale nodded in that clumsy way men have of doing when in the presence of a woman they are interested in. Something she, Penelope Wyler, had never seen. She glanced at Carl, well, looking at his face and intense green eyes, perhaps he had that look for her.
But she’d not recognize it, No. She was not going to Chico to be a preacher’s wife. No. No. No.
Dinner turned out to be the fiasco Penelope had believed. Mother, however, went on and enjoyed the company as if the working-out-thing had happened. She was blind. Had to be. Angela sat next to Dale and took all his attention.
Carl sat next to her and went on and on about his ideas on how to better the town of Chico.
And then there were the conspiratorial glances between her parents. They were hoping she’d fall crazily in love with Carl. Penelope wanted to shout at them to stop. To yell at her mother that things were not going to work out. She wanted Dale. Angela could have Carl.
To make things worse, her brothers laughed and pointed at her and Carl. Even to the point of making the new preacher blush.
Well, it couldn’t get any worse.
Dinner was over, and Dale escorted Angela outside. They looked a lot like the way she’d seen Ellie and Billy Ray stare at each other. In fact, as Penelope peeked out the slit between the curtains, she saw them kiss. Penelope gasped. She wanted to point it out but didn’t want to embarrass her parents in front of Carl.
Then Carl asked her to go outside and sit on the porch.
Penelope stared at him as if he’d grown an extra head. What was he thinking? Surely, he didn’t expect her to allow him to court her.
“It’s a lovely night, Penelope. Go ahead.” Mother rounded up the remaining siblings and ushered them into the kitchen. “Daniel, I need you too.”
Her father gave Penelope a warning look and followed Mother.
Carl gently held her hand to help her up. “It is a lovely night. I may well incorporate it into my sermon Sunday.”
She glared at him, didn’t mean to, but the idea that she could be included in his sermons was more than she could endure. She leveled a serious gaze at him. “I do hope that our evening tonight won’t be a sermon lesson.”
Startled, he shook his head. “I meant nothing untoward by it. Just that it is a lovely night, and I had such a good time with your family. With you.”
“Yes. Shall we walk?”
“I had it more in mind to sit on the bench under the big oak.” He apparently had it more than in his mind because he kept hold of her hand and led her to the oak and gestured for her to sit on the bench.
Penelope wondered what had happened to Dale and Angela. Then Carl was beside her. Close to her. Closer than she was comfortable with. She bolted out of her seat. “I want to walk.”
Looking a bit perplexed, he stood. “All right. Where shall we walk?”
“Around. Just a small walk. It’s good for the digestion.” And she took off. Apparently not the leisure kind of walk he was expecting as he lagged behind her.
They were just to the other side of the house when Penelope saw Dale and Angela. Kissing. Abruptly, she turned and ran into Carl. “We need to go back to the bench.”
In the gleam of the moon, she saw his eyes. Those green cat-like eyes and she knew he was going to try and kiss her like Dale was kissing Angela. Funny thing, Penelope might not have minded a kiss from Dale, but from Carl, it was beyond what she would endure.
He pulled her to him and just before he planted his lips on hers, she turned her head and he pegged her ear. That was enough for her. She slapped him. “How dare you presume to kiss me. And you a preacher.”
Without another word, she left him standing alone under the big oak. Penelope ran in the house and to her room, the one she shared with Angela. No, things were not working out. Not at all.
Chapter 3
Penelope wanted to be asleep before Angela came to bed. She couldn’t bear to hear how Angela and Dale were in love. Penelope had witnessed it. But unlike in her mother’s life where it always worked out, in Penelope’s it never did. And it didn’t matter what the it was.
The door cracked open and soft footsteps assured Penelope that once again, her want had been denied as Angela turned up the lantern and whispered. “You awake?”
Penelope groaned and didn’t care if Angela heard her or not. “Of course. Especially since you turned up the light.”
“Sorry, but I had to talk to you. It’s important.”
Penelope wanted to slap her sister as she gently sat at the side of her bed.
Penelope sat up and glared at her. “What is it?”
“Dale and I are to b
e married. Soon. Oh, Penelope, we love each other so much.”
Her anger softened at the glow on her sister’s face. “I didn’t even know you knew him.”
“We’ve been meeting secretly for months. At the cave. He sneaks away from work, and we have lunch together.”
“Do Mother and Father know?”
“About our wedding plans, yes. Dale came inside and asked them for my hand in marriage tonight.” She held her hands to her chest. “I love him so.”
“I asked him over for dinner.” Penelope didn’t go on. She couldn’t. What would be the point? Dale loved Angela, and that left Penelope with no one save Carl.
Angela hugged a pillow to her chest. “Dale said he knew it was a sign when you asked him for dinner. He knew it was the right time to ask for my hand.” She sighed and then looked at Penelope. “I saw you with Carl. Do you care for him at all?”
“No. He is Mother and Father’s idea.”
Angela nodded and looked relieved. “I thought so. He’s definitely not right for you. Frankly. I’m glad you’re not interested in him. He’s too, proper.”
“Ha! He tried to kiss me. I turned, and he got my ear instead.”
Angela put her hands to her mouth and giggled. “Served him right. And he being a preacher.”
Penelope nodded. “Although, I think Mother and Father may have given him the wrong idea about me. I think they mean to match me with him.” She frowned. “Truth is, there is not a man around who is interested in me.”
Angela pulled a strand of hair from Penelope’s face. “You are a little, well, righteous. I think you scare men away. Women too. I know Mary and Sage and the brothers are intimidated by you.”
Penelope groaned inwardly. Her sister’s words were the truth. “I don’t know how to be friendly. I do take God’s Word serious, and I’m not sorry for that.”
Angela nodded. “But at times, you are just as wrong as the people you are pointing at.”
Penelope gasped. “That is not true.”
“Yes, it is.” Angela stood and hugged her arms to her chest. “I am so happy.”
Not ready to let Angela stop their conversation, Penelope stood and confronted her. “I am only doing my Christian duty in pointing out the error in another’s way. They need to walk the narrow path.”
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