Wynonna glanced that way too before answering. “We’re courting,” she whispered.
Helen felt goose bumps rise on her arms. She wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. “You are? Since when?”
“Last night. We went for a little walk, and we decided to give it a try. We haven’t said anything yet because it’s still so new.”
“Well, you didn’t have to say anything. It’s written all over both your faces.” Helen shook her head even as she smiled. “You aren’t the best at keeping secrets.”
“I suppose I really can’t help it. I’m glad you know, though—I’ve needed someone to talk to.” Wynonna glanced at Jack again, but he was still preoccupied. Helen got the feeling that he was keeping his distance on purpose so they could talk—that was really nice of him. “This has all been so sudden and unexpected. I just met him, after all.”
Helen put a hand on her hip. “You traveled across the country to become a mail-order bride to a man you’d never met, and now you’re all jittery and nervous about falling in love with a man you’ve never met . . . who happens to be the same man? That makes no sense.”
Wynonna chuckled. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’m just being silly, I know.” She leaned against the tailgate. “Jack is so different from everything I imagined wanting, and yet he’s so much more, too. Once I stopped being angry about our situation and started seeing him for who he is, I realized how many layers can exist in one person, and I think I’ll be finding new layers in him for years to come. It’s exciting to think about.”
“So he’s not just a driver?” Helen asked teasingly.
“No. He’s a driver and a medic and a wrangler, and he grows herbs and he’s full of wisdom—well, he gets most of that from his grandmother. He’s funny and he’s smart—”
Helen lifted a hand. “All right, I understand. No need to make this list of his attributes any longer.” She smiled, thinking about how very much Wynonna’s feelings had changed from the first day there. “I’m happy for you. I truly am.”
“Thank you. We’re not engaged yet, so nothing’s official, but I think we could very well be heading that way.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised at all,” Helen replied. Judging by the way Jack and Wynonna had been looking at each other all morning, it wouldn’t take long for things to become very official indeed.
Jack gave them each a hand up, and Helen grasped the side of the seat as the wagon lurched forward again. She hoped the horses had rested long enough not to wear out before the end of the day.
She looked up ahead, trying to catch sight of Zeke. He must have ridden fast—he was only ten minutes down the road, and yet she couldn’t even make out a dust cloud. “Jack,” she said, turning to face him, “may I ask you another question?”
“Sure can. I can’t guarantee a good answer, but I’ll try my best.”
She paused, wondering if she should say anything. She didn’t want to create any sort of conflict where none needed to exist. “I was curious about Zeke.”
“Oh? What sorts of things were you curious about?” The twinkle in his eye told her he knew what she was asking. He was just going to make her work extra hard for it.
Well, she didn’t have to be coy—she could ask him directly. That’s what she was coming to appreciate about these cowboys—they were plainspoken, and she didn’t feel obligated to play the games society so often demanded of ladies.
“I’ve tried speaking to him several times, and at best, all I get is a one- or two-word answer. Have I done something to offend him?” Truth be told, she’d probably done any number of things. Her own tendency toward being plainspoken got her into trouble more often than she cared to admit.
Jack looked thoughtful for a minute. “The thing about Zeke . . .” he began slowly. “Zeke’s the most careful man I’ve ever met. He doesn’t waste a thing, whether it’s time or energy or words. He’ll study a matter out until he’s sure he’s handlin’ it the best way possible, and then he’ll get in there and get it done in half the time of anybody else. As far as you offendin’ him, he doesn’t take offense all that easy. Says it’s nothin’ but a waste of time, and I just told you how he feels about waste.”
There was some relief in that, but it still wasn’t everything she wanted to know. “But why won’t he have a conversation? Surely there’s nothing wasteful about being friendly.”
“Oh, it’s not wasteful, Miss Helen. He just wants to be sure he’s doin’ it right. Some things, he’s just particular about. Other things, not quite so much. You’ll figure him out someday, I guarantee you that. Just be patient with him.” Jack flicked the reins a little, as the horses had slowed. “I promise you another thing—you won’t find a better man than Zeke.”
“Not even you? Or Sully? Or Wade?” Wynonna asked, a smile on her lips.
“There are a lot of good men on the Lazy Q,” Jack conceded. “And Zeke’s one of the very best.”
Helen drifted back into her own thoughts, realizing she had a lot to consider, and they rode along in silence for a few minutes until they saw the town of Topeka up ahead. From that distance, it looked like a village created out of dollhouses.
When they reached the main street, Jack guided the horses and wagon to the general store and parked them near the front. Helen saw Zeke’s horse already tied up at the hitching post and was glad to see that he’d arrived safely—not that she’d expected anything less. He could take care of himself, she presumed.
“Afternoon, Miss Alice,” Jack greeted the young woman behind the counter as they entered the store. “Might I introduce Miss Wynonna and Miss Helen? They’ve just joined us out at the ranch for a time.”
“For a time?” The girl looked confused. “Didn’t . . .?” She leaned over the counter and whispered, “Didn’t you tell me you’d sent for some mail-order brides?”
Oh, dear. Helen felt warmth flood her cheeks. Did everyone in town know?
“There was a misunderstanding,” Jack told the girl. “It’s all worked out now, but they’ll be with us until the fall.”
“I see,” Alice replied, looking even more confused than she had a moment before. “I noticed Zeke tying up his horse outside, but he hasn’t come in yet.” She looked down at the floor, then back up. “Was he . . . I mean, is he engaged to be married? To anyone?”
“Not that I’m aware of, and it’s not easy to keep secrets at the Lazy Q,” Jack told her with a smile. She seemed relieved to hear it, and that made Helen wonder. Had Zeke ever made promises to this girl, or was she just hoping he would?
“Come look at this fabric,” Wynonna said, tugging Helen’s arm, and Helen obediently followed her over to the cutting table. “I was thinking that we want something light and airy for the curtains, but not too sheer because we also want privacy. What do you think of this yellow?”
“Hmm?” Helen blinked. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
Wynonna folded her arms and gave Helen a pointed look. She reminded Helen of her old schoolteacher. “What’s going on?”
Helen looked at the fabric and touched the one Wynonna had been looking at. “I think this yellow is lovely. It will make the rooms nice and bright, but it’s thick enough, too.”
“So you were listening to me.”
“Yes, but just barely.” Helen glanced over at the counter again. She could see Alice helping another customer, so she turned back to Wynonna. “I think that girl has feelings for Zeke,” she whispered.
“She does? Oh, that’s wonderful. But I’m sure he doesn’t know—otherwise, he wouldn’t have sent off for a mail-order bride. I wonder if we should tell him.”
“No!” Helen responded a little louder than she meant to, and she winced. “I mean, maybe we shouldn’t interfere.”
“Oh? And why is that?” Wynonna raised an eyebrow. “Have you decided that you’re interested in him after all?”
“Of course not. We’re not even remotely suited for each other.”
“Then why is
your face bright red?”
“Because I’m Irish, and that’s what we do!”
The door to the shop opened again, and Helen heard Zeke’s voice. “I just placed our order at the sawmill, and they’re pullin’ what we need now,” he was telling Jack. “We had some materials left over from addin’ on to the barn, so we’ll use those up and then begin on the new supplies.”
“Sounds good to me, and I’m sure that’ll make Wade happy too,” Jack replied. “What else do you need?”
“I have it all, but I guess the girls wanted to choose out some curtains or some other doodads,” Zeke said, sounding anything but excited at the prospect.
“I think they’re over lookin’ at the fabrics now.”
Wynonna and Helen glanced at each other and grinned. They’d better make their decision soon or the men would know they’d been wasting time chitchatting.
“Yellow it is,” Wynonna said, and they moved on to choosing out their linens.
***
Alice Appleby was a pretty young lady, and it seemed that most of the men in Topeka thought so as well. When her father put her in charge of running the general store in the afternoons, their business increased by quite a lot, and it made Zeke chuckle to think of it. Eligible women could be difficult to find in this neck of the woods, which was yet another compelling reason to send for a mail-order bride. Alice would have her pick from a dozen different young men, each of them trying to impress her in a dozen different ways. Honestly, who had time for that? No, thank you.
However, as she looked at Zeke across the counter and asked if there wasn’t anything she could get for him, he started to wonder if maybe she had decided to ignore all those other men and was interested in him. That would be a surprise—he’d never thrown his hat in the ring, but he supposed that wasn’t a necessary factor. She had the right to like anyone she cared to, and if that was him . . .
No, that couldn’t possibly be it. She was being friendly because he was a customer, and it was her job.
But what if she was interested in him?
He blinked, realizing he hadn’t answered her question. “Maybe some licorice,” he said at last.
“Licorice?”
“That’s right. A penny’s worth?”
She smiled, and he noticed that it reached her eyes and made them twinkle. Funny how that had escaped his attention before. “Of course. Coming right up.”
As she moved over to the candy barrels, a brown paper sack in hand, Zeke turned and looked around the store, trying to spot Jack or the mail-order brides. He thought he heard their voices back in the dry goods, but he couldn’t be sure, and then Alice was handing him his candy. He fished a penny out of his pocket and slid it across the counter. “Thank you, Miss Appleby,” he said, giving her a nod.
Her cheeks turned pink. “You’re welcome.”
He’d never seen her blush when helping the other customers, but he supposed he hadn’t been paying attention. Now it seemed that he couldn’t do anything but pay attention—he noticed the way her blonde hair was piled up on top of her head, the way she’d tied a ribbon around her neck, the way she folded her hands at her waist. Now he could see why men were lining up around the block to catch a glimpse of her. She wasn’t just pretty—she was enchanting.
“Hey, Zeke,” Jack called out. “Can you lend us a hand?”
Zeke swallowed, gave a nod to Miss Alice, and walked back toward the dry goods, clutching his sack of licorice. He didn’t actually know why he’d purchased it—he’d just been caught off guard when Miss Alice asked if he wanted anything, and it was the first thing to enter his mind. He shoved it into his pocket, thinking he might take it to Miss Margaret. She could use some cheering.
“The ladies here had some questions for you,” Jack said as Zeke walked up to them.
“We’ve chosen the fabric we want for the curtains, but we aren’t sure how much to get,” Helen explained. “How many windows will there be, and how large?”
Zeke reached into his pocket and pulled out the sheet of paper where he’d been jotting down his ideas. He spread it out on the cutting table, and he was immediately aware of Miss Helen leaning over his left arm to get a better look at it. She smelled like lemons and sunshine, and he wondered what was wrong with him that all of a sudden, every female in the world was suddenly so attractive. He was likely coming down with something—it might be malaria. He should speak to Dr. Wayment about it.
“This is the main room, with one large window next to the door,” he said. “That will be three feet by five feet.”
“Oh, that is a nice big window,” Wynonna said.
“I figured you’d enjoy the extra light,” Zeke replied, a little shy at her enthusiasm. “Then there are two bedrooms, with two windows each. Those are three feet square.”
“I didn’t realize glass came in those dimensions,” Helen said, narrowing her eyes. “Have you double-checked with your supplier to make sure?”
Zeke nodded. She didn’t know about his experience with such things—it was natural that she’d have questions. “I’ll be arranging them in panes, separated with strips of wood affixed on all sides,” he explained.
“And that will be sturdy enough to keep out the drafts?”
“The way I do it, yes,” he replied. “I create tight, precise joins, and I’ve never lost a pane yet.”
“But the drafts,” she persisted. “There’s just nothing more annoying than a drafty window.”
Unless it was a woman who wouldn’t listen to reason. Zeke pulled in a breath. “Miss Ashby, I assure you, the windows will not be drafty. If they are, you may feel free to invite me over, and I will sit in the draft until I catch pneumonia and die, if that will make you feel any better.”
She blinked. “I didn’t mean to anger you. I just wanted to be sure . . .”
“You can be sure. I know what I’m doing.” He shouldn’t have lost his temper, and he already felt bad about it. He’d thought he was doing so well, but she just kept on until he snapped. He’d have to watch for that more carefully.
“I see.” She nodded. “So, four curtains to cover three-feet windows, and one curtain for a three-by-five window. I’m not certain there’s enough fabric available for that.” She nodded toward a bolt of bright yellow that had been set on the cutting table.
“If you’ll pardon me for sayin’ so, I likely wouldn’t choose that for a curtain,” Zeke said.
“You wouldn’t? Why not?” Helen asked.
“It’s too thin. I’d suggest a heavier weight.”
“Heavier? I disagree. We want to let in some light while still maintaining privacy during the early morning hours. A heavier fabric would make the place as dark as a tomb.”
“But if it’s too flimsy, the curtains won’t hang straight down like they should.” Hadn’t he just proven that he knew what he was talking about? Was she going to question absolutely everything he said?
Helen let out an exasperated sigh. “Let’s ask someone else—a disinterested third party, shall we?” She looked around, then lifted her hand. “Alice? Could we ask for a little advice?”
Miss Alice joined them at the table. “How can I help you? Oh, you’ve chosen the yellow. It’s such a nice, buoyant fabric, isn’t it? Are you making a dress?”
“No, actually. We’re making curtains.”
Alice frowned. “Curtains? With this fabric?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Alice shook her head. “I’m afraid this isn’t a curtain fabric. It’s a lovely color, but it’s just not heavy enough to hold its shape. Curtains should hang down straight, and this would billow all around and likely annoy you something fierce.”
Zeke pressed his lips together and tried not to smile.
“Well, then, which of these fabrics would you recommend for curtains?” Helen asked. Her tone was icy—she was definitely a woman who didn’t like to be corrected. Funny how she didn’t mind handing out corrections of her own.
Alice ran her finger a
long the bolts and then pulled one off the shelf. “This one. It’s nearly the shade you chose, but it’s stiffer and weighs a little more. It will still drape nicely at the window, but it will hold its shape, too.”
“Thank you. That’s the one we’ll take,” Wynonna told her, glancing at Zeke with something that looked like an apology on her face. He wondered what she’d been thinking during his exchange with her friend. It couldn’t have been comfortable.
Helen stood there with her arms folded while Alice cut the yardage they asked for. She kept glancing at Zeke like she wanted to say something, but she pressed her lips together and didn’t make a sound. Zeke looked over at Jack to find that his friend was greatly amused by the situation. No doubt Zeke would get teased about it later.
Wynonna chose out some thread, a package of needles, and a few other sewing gadgets, and Alice wrote everything down on the ranch’s account. Helen stepped outside onto the porch, and Zeke felt like he could draw a deep breath for the first time in several minutes.
“Is something the matter?” Alice asked, glancing through the window to where Helen stood. “I feel as though I made things worse by suggesting a different fabric.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong at all,” Wynonna assured her. “I think Helen just has a headache.”
“She does?” Zeke asked. He hadn’t considered that she might not be feeling well—he’d automatically assumed that she was just being persnickety. As usual. “Should we get her some headache powders?”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine in a little while,” Wynonna said. “You’re sweet to think of it, though.”
“Yes, you are,” Alice chimed in, giving him another one of those small smiles.
Zeke ducked his head, not sure how to respond. He rarely even spoke to women, and now it seemed he was supposed to speak to all of them. He was starting to wish that he’d stayed back on the Lazy Q and helped Sully finish the breeding. It wasn’t a pleasant task, but at least there, he knew what to expect. Being surrounded by women was like being surrounded by birds—he didn’t know if they were or were not aiming to peck his eyes out.
A Handyman for Helen Page 2