A Handyman for Helen

by Amelia C. Adams

  He heard Tenny’s straw tick crunch as his friend sat up. “You did? And what did she say?”

  “Well, I don’t know because you showed up just then. It might have been a real nice conversation, but now I guess we’ll never know.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you’ll never have the chance to find out now.” Tenny chuckled. “That’s another thing I was thinkin’ about. You drew up plans for one large cabin for all the ladies to share, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, I don’t think that’s going to do. Seems to me, we’re going to need another for Jack and Wynonna before too much longer.”

  Zeke grinned. “I noticed just how close those two were gettin’ on our trip to Topeka—they say they’re takin’ things slow, but I think we’re going to have a wedding before Miss Margaret’s time comes.”

  “And now with you and Miss Helen . . .”

  Zeke felt his face go warm. “Now, hold up there. I might have told her my feelin’s, but that doesn’t mean there’s a weddin’ in the works. Just a few days ago, we weren’t even on speakin’ terms.”

  “Since when are you on actual speakin’ terms with anyone?” Tenny chuckled. “Don’t fool yourself, Zeke. We’re gonna have plenty of wedding bells ringin’ at the Lazy Q after all—just not in the way we first thought.”

  “And we weren’t prepared with extra cabins then, either.” Zeke ran through the numbers in his head. “We don’t have near enough lumber.”

  “Or nails, or nothin’ else.” Tenny chuckled again. “We’ll figure it out, Zeke—one cabin at a time. Now let’s get some sleep so we can make up a buildin’ schedule tomorrow. We’ve got a lot to do.”

  A few minutes later, Tenny’s quiet breathing filled the room, but Zeke was still awake, calculating how much additional lumber they’d need and how long it would take to build each cabin. It was true that Jack hadn’t actually proposed to Miss Wynonna yet—at least, not that they’d made public—but it seemed inevitable, and as far as Zeke and Helen went . . .

  He’d worry about that later. One cabin at a time.

  ***

  In the morning, Tenny helped Zeke get washed up and dressed, then led him over to the dining room for breakfast. All the men crowded around to welcome him, shaking his hand and slapping him on the back. It was good to hear their voices, even if he couldn’t see their faces.

  “Hey, Mike?” he said when he picked the foreman’s voice out of the chaos. “Do you have anything pressin’ this mornin’, or could everyone stick around for a minute when they’re done eatin’?”

  “Nothin’ too pressin’,” Mike said. “What do you need?”

  “I thought we could talk about this cabin-buildin’ project.”

  “That’s exactly what I was hopin’ you’d say.” It was Sully’s voice now. “It’s time to get all the young ladies situated proper-like.”

  Frisco brought Zeke a plate of bacon and eggs topped with two biscuits, put a fork in his hand, and then stepped away. Zeke appreciated being allowed to figure out where things were on the table in front of him without being walked through it like a child—he was worried that the men might try to overcompensate for his weaknesses, but they were giving him the space he needed and craved.

  “Can I get you anything else, Zeke?” Fiona had walked up so quietly, he didn’t even know she was there until she spoke.

  “No, thank you, Miss Fiona. If I eat any more, I’ll burst my buttons.”

  He could almost hear the smile in her voice as she replied, “What a nice compliment. I’ll take your plate.”

  He wanted to object and tell her that he’d do it, but then he realized that he wasn’t quite sure where in the dining room he was. That would make finding the wash basin extra difficult. Whoever was in charge of him that afternoon, he’d ask them to walk him around and help him memorize how far apart things were in relation to each other.

  “All right, we’re all finished eatin’, and it looks like you did a decent job clearin’ up,” Mike said, standing somewhere at the front of the room. “Zeke wants to talk to us about buildin’ a cabin.”

  “More than one cabin, actually,” Zeke said. “Tenny pointed out to me that Jack might be needin’ one of his own before too much longer.”

  The men began to jeer and tease, and Zeke held up a hand. “Come on now. We’ve got work to do—we can persecute him later. We’ll have time.”

  “Thanks, Zeke,” Jack said, sounding wry.

  “First thing we’ll need is some paper,” Zeke continued. “Miss Helen said she’d look for some—”

  “Right here,” she called out. “Sorry—I was in the back washing dishes.”

  Zeke smiled, his chest feeling warm at knowing she was nearby. “Thank you, Miss Helen. Now, I was up a bit last night thinkin’ things over, and I believe we want to continue with the cabin as planned, but we’ll want to make a few extra. Let’s be honest, men—the idea of mail-order brides sunk into our skulls a bit, and we’ve been thinkin’ about marriage more than before. It would be foolish of us not to prepare for the future, and it’s a waste of time to drop everythin’ and build a whole new cabin every time someone gets engaged. Let’s just build some all at the same time and be more efficient.”

  “Well now, seems to me there weren’t too many of us gettin’ engaged as of late, so that’s why you sent for mail-order brides,” Gallagher said. “You know somethin’ we don’t know?”

  “I think he’s referrin’ to the fact that he and Miss Helen seem to be gettin’ along rather well too,” Tenny called out.

  Knowing that Helen was nearby, Zeke wanted to crawl under the table and disappear. It was one thing to give him a hard time when it was just the men around to hear, but the ladies?

  “Frankly, I’d be honored to know you were seeing to my welfare so considerately,” Helen replied, her voice cutting through the teasing, and the men fell silent. “How can I help?”

  Zeke smiled. He should have known she’d find a way to squelch them. “If you could take notes, that would be very helpful.”

  “Of course.” He sensed her sitting down across the table from him. “Let’s make some plans.”

  ***

  Over the course of the next hour, Helen scribbled down column after column of numbers, made notations, and created lists of supplies. Everything Zeke said and everything that was suggested went onto her papers, and when at last everyone had said what they wanted to say, she felt she’d been thorough. She also felt exhausted.

  Fiona set a pot of coffee on the table next to her and poured a cup each for her and for Zeke. Most of the other men had trailed off to handle the morning chores, agreeing to meet up again in two hours to start determining the placement of the new cabins. Wade would be on hand to supervise and approve the process—it was exciting to think about everything that would be taking place over the next couple of weeks.

  “You both look worn out,” Fiona said as she plopped two sugar cubes into Zeke’s cup. Helen didn’t know how she remembered that’s what he liked without asking, yet somehow, she did.

  “It’s hard work, keeping up with Zeke,” Helen replied, motioning to the pages in front of her. “How do you manage to sort that out in your head?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “It’s just something I’ve always done.”

  “Well, I can’t wait to see how these cabins turn out,” Fiona said. “I’ll be sure to keep all the men fed while they’re working—some extra cabin-building treats might pop up from time to time.”

  Zeke turned his head as though looking for someone. “Speaking of the men, do you know who’s my assigned helper?”

  “I think it’s just us left. We can help you,” Helen said. “What do you need?”

  “I was hoping to use the outhouse.”

  “Oh.” Helen felt embarrassment creep over her. “I’ll go outside and find someone. Someone male.”

  She stood up and left the dining room as quickly as she could, wishing she didn’t blush so
easily. “Wes?” she called out when she saw one of the men crossing the gravel portion of the yard. “Could you spare a minute?”

  He was more than happy to lead Zeke to the outhouse, and Helen collapsed into her seat next to Fiona, pressing her hands to her pink cheeks.

  “That was amusing,” Fiona said, not even trying to hide her smile.

  “No, it wasn’t. It was horrible.” Helen shook her head. “All right, let’s talk about something else. Do you need any help in the kitchen?”

  “No, Cora and Rowena are back there now, setting up for lunch. Why don’t you go check in with Margaret? I know Wynonna was helping her wash her hair this morning—maybe there are some other things you could do.”

  “Good idea. And by the time I’m done, maybe I won’t be so pink.”

  “Doubtful, but you can try.”

  Helen shook her head again. Fiona thought she was so funny.

  Chapter Eight

  “Oh, I don’t think it’s as bad as all that,” Margaret said after Helen told her the humiliating story. “I’m sure Zeke didn’t think anything of it.”

  Wynonna was still laughing. “This is the best story I’ve heard in a long time,” she said at last, wiping tears from under her eyes. “Tell me another one.”

  “Hush,” Helen told her. “I’m mortified enough as it is. Wait, though—I do have another story. You’ll like this one even more, I’m sure. It was announced in front of everyone in the dining room that Jack would be needing a cabin of his own before too much longer.”

  “It was?” Wynonna’s eyes grew wide. “I mean, that’s not out of the question, but . . . in front of everyone? Before there’s even been a proposal?”

  “I’m sorry to say, yes,” Helen replied. “And then right after that, someone said Zeke and I would need one too.”

  Wynonna clapped her hand over her mouth, but a guffaw escaped anyway. “I wish I’d been there,” she said after a moment of mostly silent mirth. “I could have endured the embarrassment as long as I wasn’t the only one going through it.”

  “I assure you, it wasn’t very pleasant,” Helen said dryly. “So, there’s your update—the men are planning to build not only a large cabin for the ladies, but a few smaller cabins for the newlyweds they anticipate will be popping up on the horizon.”

  “That’s actually a good plan,” Margaret said. “Building them all at once is much more efficient than one at a time.”

  “Which is how Zeke explained it, but I still don’t like people speculating like that.” Helen sat down on the edge of Margaret’s bed. “Isn’t romance supposed to be spontaneous, and maybe a bit of a surprise? If you know two people are going to end up together, doesn’t that take the fun out of it?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Margaret replied. “Romance is fun even when you know it’s coming, I should think.”

  “I was just remembering two friends I had growing up,” Helen went on. “One of them had been sweet on the boy next door practically since they were infants. He took her to every party, they sat in church together, and then they got married. There was never any question of them finding someone else—they were simply meant to be together from the start. But another one of my friends was courted by a dashing stranger from out of town who swept her off her feet and whisked her off to Europe for their honeymoon. I always thought that my first friend had a rather boring love story, while my second friend had all the excitement.”

  “I don’t think I’d want to be whisked around quite so much,” Wynonna said with a chuckle. “I get unbalanced rather easily.”

  “You know what I mean,” Helen replied. “Would you want to know who you were going to marry right from the start?”

  “Well, it certainly would have saved on some frustration.” Wynonna stepped over to Margaret’s side and removed the towel from her head. “I think you’re nearly dry.”

  Margaret touched her hair. “You’re right. Could you hand me my brush?”

  Helen kept herself occupied for the next hour changing Margaret’s bedsheets and washing a few dishes, but she felt edgy inside, like she’d swallowed a bumblebee and it was trying to get out. Finally, she headed back outside, deciding to watch the men survey the property for the new cabins. She had to stay busy or go mad—sitting still allowed her to think too much, and thinking meant thinking about Zeke, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to think about him too much yet. She wasn’t quite ready.

  ***

  Zeke pressed his fingers to his temples again as he thought about the distance there should be between the cabin doors. Jack had brought a chair outside and set it where Zeke could be on hand while the surveying was taking place. It was a good idea, but Zeke wished with all his heart that he could be doing the surveying himself.

  “We can do this later,” Jack said, standing somewhere near Zeke’s right elbow. “You should go rest.”

  “No, I’m fine,” Zeke said. “It’s just this same ache. The doctor says it will go away eventually.”

  “Did he give you anythin’ for it?”

  “He suggested some laudanum or opium, but I said no,” Zeke replied. “That stuff seems too strong—like being drunk and never getting sober again.”

  “I’ve got something that might help, if you don’t mind givin’ it a try. It’s bark from the white willow tree. The Indians use it as a headache powder.”

  “I’ve tried headache powders, and they don’t work for this,” Zeke said. “Thanks for the offer, though.”

  “This is different. Just give it a try, and if it doesn’t work, at least we know.”

  Zeke sighed. “All right.” He’d try it, but he had accepted the fact that this pain would be constant until he was healed. Without that acceptance, he didn’t think he’d be able to bear it.

  “I’ll be back. Here’s Mike—why don’t you tell him what you were just calculatin’ about the cabins?”

  Zeke gave Mike his thoughts about the distance between the different buildings, and they discussed the possibilities of flower beds and so forth. By the time they’d arrived at a decision, Jack was back, and he pressed a tin cup into Zeke’s hand.

  “Miss Fiona wouldn’t let me bring a glass clear out here,” he said jokingly. “This is white willow bark ground up and put in some hot water. Drink the whole thing—don’t leave anythin’ behind.”

  Zeke sniffed at the mixture and wrinkled his nose. “This smells like the river bottoms.”

  “Well, that’s where I found the willow tree, so that makes sense. Drink up.”

  Zeke steeled himself and guzzled it all, not stopping to take a breath for fear he wouldn’t be able to finish the mixture. When he was done, he shuddered, then handed the cup to Jack. “I was a good boy and took all my medicine,” he said. “Now, let’s get back to work.”

  After another hour, the men had driven stakes in the ground to mark where the corners of each cabin would go, and they had begun to mark out spots for the various gardens and so forth. Zeke noticed that the pain in his head had receded, making it easier to answer the questions being asked of him. It was such a welcome relief.

  “Zeke, may I speak with you for a moment?”

  He turned his head in the direction of Helen’s voice. “Of course. I’m glad you’re here. Is there another chair out here for you?”

  “Yes, there is. And I’ve actually been here for a while, watching everyone decide where things are going to be. I’ve never seen the beginning stages of building before—it’s quite fascinating.”

  “It’s easier for this project because the land was already surveyed when the main buildings were put in,” Zeke explained. “We just want to be sure that we’re not digging into water seepage and that sort of thing.”

  “That’s smart.” She sounded a little distracted. “So, um, while we’re alone . . .”

  “Are we alone? I didn’t notice,” he joked, but then he nodded. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about this all morning—ever since break
fast, when you needed help getting to the outhouse,” she began. “I . . . I don’t mean that I was thinking about you and the outhouse all morning. I mean, I’ve been thinking about this ever since then.”

  He smiled. “It’s all right—I understand. What have you been thinkin’ about?”

  “I suppose this does have to do with the outhouse in a way . . .” She paused long enough that he wondered if he’d have to get a crowbar to pry it out of her. And people said he had a hard time saying what he was thinking.

  “Helen, whatever it is, you can say it.” He reached out and found her hand. He was surprised to discover that it was trembling.

  “Well, I was also thinking back to what Dr. Wayment said. He said . . . this would be a lot easier if you had a wife. And I thought about the men here and how they each have work to do, and how I had to go find someone to take you to the outhouse, and that there might be a simpler way.”

  Zeke thought he knew where Helen was going with this, but he couldn’t believe she was really saying it, so he kept his mouth shut, looking for more evidence before he leaped in.

  “It’s obvious that you’re going to need help for a while yet, and it’s also obvious that there will be times when you’ll need help and no one of a certain gender will be available to help you, and so I was thinking that perhaps if we got married, it would solve several things at once.” She said this all so fast, he still wasn’t sure he’d heard it correctly.

  “Are you proposin’ to me?” he said at last.

  “I . . . I think I am,” she replied. “Is that what it sounded like?”

  “That’s what it sounded like, but I wasn’t sure, so I thought I’d better check.”

  “It’s a terrible idea, isn’t it? You think it’s terrible. I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said anything. I was just trying to solve the problem, and it was the best solution, and now, if you don’t mind, I’ll go crawl under a rock now.” She tried to pull her hand from his, but he held it fast.

  “Helen, let me ask you a question.”

  “Yes?” Her voice sounded small.