Mountain Rose Page 7

  Later, they rested in the shade.

  “I’ll bet most of the children you teach catch on quicker than I do,” Tanis said.

  “Not at all. You’re a clever pupil. You’ll be reading in no time.”

  “You’re a good teacher,” Tanis told her. “Do you have plans to teach again?”

  “It’s what I know how to do,” she answered. “Once Emily is settled and I know she’s all right, I’ll have to find employment somewhere. I have a little money left, but I can take work anywhere to earn train fare.”

  “Can you cook?” Tanis asked.

  “I’m a pretty fair cook,” she replied. “I used to roast chicken when it was my turn in the kitchen.” Olivia glanced toward the barns. “There’s a chicken house back there. Wayland brings me eggs, but never a chicken.”

  Tanis fanned herself with a handkerchief. “Sure would be nice to have chicken and noodles, instead of game, wouldn’t it?”

  They looked at each other.

  “Someone always brought them to me. Have you ever killed a chicken?” Olivia asked.

  “A hundred times.”

  “I’ll grab two if you’ll clean them.”

  Tanis nodded. “Jules won’t mind.”

  Heading for the coop, Olivia questioned her impulsive decision. Even as she drew closer, the creatures squawked and scattered. She thought over the dilemma and rummaged through a couple of storage bins behind the cabin, finding a gunnysack for capture and a denim jacket that could protect her arms and shirtwaist.

  Determined, she donned the jacket and set off for the area behind the enormous stable. The chickens were fenced inside a wire enclosure with a wood-and-wire gate. She entered, and the hens clucked and ran in a dozen directions. Olivia stood still and waited until the creatures went back to pecking at the ground. The feathered fowl intimidated her, but she focused on how badly she wanted chicken with those noodles. Each time she approached, the birds skittered away. Finally, she crouched on the ground with the bag in hand, waiting for one to come near. When it did, she placed the bag over it and scooped it up. Now what? She had one bird in the sack and couldn’t use the bag the same way again for another.

  She exited the gate and carried the fluttering chicken all the way back to Tanis’s camp. “I got one.”

  Reaching into the bag, Tanis pulled the bird out by the feet and handed the bag back to Olivia. “Grab it by the feet and hang it upside down. It’ll just hang there and not fight.”

  That would have been useful knowledge the first time she’d gone to the henhouse. And Tanis had been right. She caught the next chicken by the feet, and as soon as she flipped the bird over, it hung motionless. She didn’t even need the bag. Grinning, she proudly carried back her catch.

  Much later, she delivered pies to Wayland and told him he didn’t need to send food for them that evening. Smelling his bubbling pot of brown stew confirmed that her supper would be far more appealing. Not that she didn’t appreciate his efforts, because she did, but she didn’t share his fondness for cooking small, wild creatures.

  Minutes later, Jules entered the cabin with his hair still wet and smelling of soap. He stopped and inhaled. “What is that wonderful smell?”

  “Chicken and noodles with apple pie.”

  His eyes widened. “You made chicken and noodles?”

  “Tanis made the noodles and shared them. I caught the chickens and she cleaned them. But we cooked them together.”

  He chuckled and seated himself. “I would’ve liked to have seen you catching chickens.”

  “I did quite well, actually.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Emily, why don’t you say the blessing this evening,” Olivia suggested.

  Obediently, Emily nodded and bowed her head. “Thank You for this food, Lord. God bless those fat chickens in Uncle Jules’s pen. God bless my new family and my new friends. And God, please bless Miss Rose real good and don’t let her find a job too far away. Amen.”

  Jules couldn’t make himself look up at Olivia. He was Emily’s family. Her heartfelt prayer touched him with regret and guilt and made him feel as though he was tearing the two females apart by not allowing them both to stay here. Even if he let Emily stay, her teacher needed to find employment. They wouldn’t end up together.

  The kiss he’d shared with Olivia had been on his mind all day. He’d overstepped a boundary, and her surprise had been plain, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Olivia Rose had the prettiest mouth he’d ever seen—or kissed.

  He took control over his thoughts and swung them back to the meal she’d prepared. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d tasted anything as delicious as the savory chicken and noodles. “Perfect.”

  Olivia’s pink cheeks showed she was unaccustomed to praise, but she grinned and thanked him.

  When she served slices of flaky-crusted apple pie, he closed his eyes and let the sweet cinnamon flavor melt on his tongue. “Where did you learn to bake like this?”

  “We shared kitchen duty at the academy. All of the young ladies were instructed in cooking and baking.” She glanced at Emily. “Emily can make a fine pound cake on her own.”

  The girl nodded. “And biscuits,” she added.

  He had a thought. “What did you do with the seeds from the apples?”

  “I gave the cores and peels to the chickens.”

  “Are there more apples?”

  “Oh, yes. The men left two bushels.”

  “Save seeds next time. I’ll plant ’em and maybe get a few trees started.”

  She studied him for a moment, then got up and grabbed the tin pot to refill his coffee cup. “You’re a forward thinker.”

  “Because?”

  “Because you think of planting trees and you lay plans for things that will come to pass in the future.”

  He stirred in sugar and then sipped his coffee. “You don’t?”

  She resumed her seat and sat thoughtfully for a moment. “My future is as uncertain as my past. I have to focus on today.”

  He’d never considered planning ahead a luxury before, but for someone living from day to day as Olivia had been, he supposed it was. He looked at Emily. He didn’t want her to feel insecure about her future. He hadn’t been able to shake his growing concern about being solely responsible for her or the possibility that he wasn’t going to have any help from his mother. The more he learned about Olivia and her lack of family connections and life experience, the less inclined he was to lay the same fate on his niece.

  Maybe he should go ahead and build the house. If Emily was still here by winter, the two of them could move into the new place, and the Rolands could have the cabin. He couldn’t let himself be affected by Emily’s concern that her teacher not get a job too far away, however. He might feel bad about the uncertainty that ruled Olivia’s life, but it wasn’t his problem to fix. Nor was it the problem of all the men who’d swarmed around at church, seeking introductions. He pushed the thought away.

  While Olivia and Emily cleaned up after the meal, he went out to the bunkhouse. Summer was slow for the men, but he kept them on because he didn’t want them finding jobs elsewhere when he’d need them again in the fall to bale hay and ready the ranch for winter. He found the bunkhouse empty, so he moved on, discovering them gathered at the table under the stars.

  “Hey, boss. Need a hand with something?”

  “Nope. Came to let you know we’ll be startin’ on the house.”

  Coonie cackled. “Thinkin’ you might need yoursef a wife, after all?”

  “I’m thinkin’ Will needs a place for his family come winter, and it might as well be the cabin.”

  No one questioned his reasoning, but when he told them to show up early the next morning, Lee and Wayland grinned.

  * * *

  Over the next two weeks, the men worked long hours, clearing the land and laying the framework for the house. Every day after her morning baking and Emily’s and Tanis’s lessons, Olivia helped Wayland prepare lunc
h and deliver it to the site. The house was being constructed several hundred feet from the other ranch buildings, on a flat strip of land nearer the wooded foothills to the west. Tanis explained that the location would provide protection from wind and snow.

  The men planed and notched logs so they fit together snugly to create walls. Olivia joined the men in gathering stones. She and Emily couldn’t lift the biggest rocks, but they carried and stacked the smaller ones.

  Two fireplaces—an enormous one for the main room and a smaller version for a bedroom—were constructed and the mortar left to set. Olivia enjoyed watching the walls go up and appreciated the way the men worked together. Sharing outdoor work was yet another new experience. Every morning, she prayed for the workers’ safety. While Jules created window frames, Will worked on building heavy shutters, and together the two men hung them.

  Eventually, Jules directed the construction of six stone pillars ten feet away from the front wall.

  “What are those for?” Emily asked.

  “They’ll hold up the roof that extends from the house and give us a porch,” Jules explained.

  That night they ate a late supper with the Rolands.

  “We’re going to have a porch!” Emily told Tanis.

  Will covered his wife’s hand with his own and gave her a tender look. “I’m going to build a place like that for my family soon.”

  “Moving out of the wagon will be an improvement,” his wife told him.

  Will squeezed her hand. “You deserve better.”

  She smiled at him in return, her fondness for her husband no secret.

  Their exchange fascinated Olivia. Having grown up in a houseful of women and little girls, she’d never seen a husband-and-wife relationship. She noted that Jules had overheard, as well, but he kept his gaze averted.

  When they headed back to the cabin, Emily ran ahead. “I’m going to get ready for bed and read,” she called back to them.

  A single figure broke away from the shadows of the bunkhouse and approached at a quick pace.

  Olivia had the impression that Jules didn’t recognize the person approaching, because he stepped between her and the man, and his posture tensed.

  “It’s Marcus Stone,” the man identified himself, sweeping his hat from his head.

  “Marcus, what brings you out so late?” Jules asked.

  Olivia moved around him to see the man paused four feet away.

  “I arrived earlier in the evening, but you weren’t here, so I waited with Lee and the fellas.”

  Jules turned to nod at Olivia. “Miss Rose, this is Marcus Stone. He has a spread east of here. Marcus, Olivia Rose.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Rose.” Marcus stood expectantly. She couldn’t see him well in the moonlight, but she could tell he was tall and broad shouldered and that he’d combed his hair with a part. A spicy scent in the air suggested he’d bathed recently or doused himself with whatever men used after shaving.

  “It’s a pleasure,” she said. Olivia belatedly remembered it was up to the lady to extend a hand, and she’d probably offended Jules’s friend by neglecting the courtesy. Embarrassed by her inexperience, she hoped she could slip inside and leave them to their business.

  “What can I do for you?” The man hadn’t answered Jules the first time.

  “Actually, I came to see Miss Rose,” he replied.

  Jules glanced at Olivia and back. “Oh? About what?”

  Marcus held his hat by the brim and gave it a half turn. “I came calling, Jules.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Olivia had read extensively, and she knew the term meant seeking a woman with the purpose of courtship, but hearing it used regarding her caught her by complete surprise.

  Jules recovered his composure first. “Excuse me then, while I read with my niece before her bedtime.”

  He headed into the cabin and closed the door. Emily glanced up at him from where she sat at the table. She’d lit a lamp and sat with a book open. “Where’s Miss Rose?”

  “She has a visitor.”

  Her eyebrows rose in curiosity. “A visitor?”

  “Yes, a rancher from a spread nearby.”

  Emily got up and started for the door, but Jules stopped her by saying, “Give ’em privacy.”

  Emily paused and turned wide brown eyes up at him. “Is she safe?”

  He nodded. “I know the man well. If I had any doubts, I wouldn’t have left her out there with him.”

  “What does he want?”

  “Apparently, he came calling.”

  “What does calling mean?”

  “It means—” He had to force out the explanation. “He needs a wife, and he came to see if your teacher would make a suitable one.”

  Emily scurried over to stand right beside him. Worry creased her forehead. “Would she?”

  “No doubt she’d make any man a fine wife.”

  “But she doesn’t know him.”

  Recognizing her concern, he sat and explained. “Many people marry for practical reasons, Emily. Men out here sometimes send for a bride by mail and get one sight unseen.”

  She absorbed that information in silence, moved back to her chair and perched. Jules wanted to get up and go look out the door, too, but restraining himself, he remained seated.

  After a moment, Emily spoke again. “Why don’t you marry Miss Rose? Then we’d all be able to stay together.”

  Her suggestion wasn’t a terrible one, and he wasn’t completely loath to the idea.

  In fact, it was a simple solution. But easy didn’t always mean best. What if he wasn’t ready for marriage? Marrying for the wrong reasons could be disastrous and end up making everyone involved miserable.

  Marriage hadn’t been in his plan just yet, but then neither had Emily or the new house. His plans had been knocked askew by the arrival of these females, and he wouldn’t be getting his life back in proper order anytime soon.

  He’d seen a lot of things during the war that made him question people and not take anything or anyone at face value. He’d believed he needed more time between himself and those experiences before he started looking at being capable of love and trust.

  But what was there about Olivia not to trust?

  No. It was her vulnerability that frightened him. He didn’t know if he was ready to be the man she needed.

  Had it been Lee who’d suggested the nearby men would soon be making efforts to snag her? He’d been right. Marcus had only just heard about Olivia, hadn’t set eyes on her beforehand, but he’d come calling. Calling. What did that entail, anyhow? And how long was it supposed to take? Shouldn’t she be coming in by now?

  Jules had been pushed off center by Marcus’s pronouncement. Had he done the right thing in leaving them standing out there alone? Olivia was in his care while she was staying here, after all. He was responsible for her.

  He got up, strode to the door and opened it.

  The two of them stood pretty much where he’d left them. Marcus was still worrying the brim of his hat, but he was smiling.

  Olivia spoke first. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Stone. I’ll look forward to our ride.”

  “’Night, Miss Rose.” Marcus settled his hat on his head and headed back toward the bunkhouse.

  Olivia stepped past Jules to enter the cabin.

  “Your ride?” he asked.

  “He’s taking me for a carriage ride on Saturday morning.”

  Jules didn’t know why that announcement irritated him, but childishly, he wanted to go out there and tell Marcus Stone to take a long walk off a short cliff. Pretty pushy of the man to come over here and plan outings with Jules’s guests.

  “Does he want you to marry him, Miss Rose?” Emily asked.

  Olivia flushed bright pink and turned away to tidy the dry sink and nearby cupboard. “That’s certainly jumping to a conclusion. I’ve only just met the man.”

  “Uncle Jules said calling means a man needs a wife, and he said you’d make a good one.”

&nb
sp; Olivia turned a startled blue gaze on Jules.

  He hoped she didn’t think he approved of Marcus’s bold intent. Not that he disapproved entirely.

  “I think Uncle Jules should marry you, Miss Rose. Then you could stay here, and we’d all be together.”

  Olivia spun to gape at her young student. “Emily!”

  “Well, I do think so. What’s wrong with saying so?”

  Olivia couldn’t even meet Jules’s eyes. She headed for the door and escaped back out into the night and the blessed darkness, where she pressed her palms to her heated cheeks.

  Behind her the door opened and closed, and Jules’s boots swished through the grass. She didn’t turn around. “Please. Just don’t say anything.”

  Of course Emily’s idea had been ludicrous, but she couldn’t bear hearing that he didn’t want her. His lack of interest was understood without additional humiliation.

  “I’ll just stand here, then.”

  The silence grew louder than anything he might have said. Finally securing a sense of composure, she turned. “You don’t have to mention that I’m ill prepared for this life or that I’m not skilled at handling myself. I’m aware of my shortcomings. And I realize that men out here aren’t entirely discriminating when it comes to selecting wives. But I’m going to keep my options open, in the event that I’m unable to secure a position that pays well enough to support myself in a respectable fashion.”

  “I have nothing critical to say about your choices,” he replied. “You’re the smartest woman I’ve ever met.”

  His compliment brought no comfort. She had an excellent education, yes. She used perfect diction and knew appropriate deportment. She could set a table for tea and recite poetry, but she would trade everything she knew for a home where someone loved her. She yearned to hear someone say she looked like her mother or reminded him of her grandmother.

  “Your lack of experience makes you vulnerable,” he continued. “For now, it’s my responsibility to protect you.”

  Everything had become so confusing. Sometimes Olivia wished she could fall asleep and wake up to find her life was uncomplicated and safe the way it had once been. She may have been unwanted, but she’d known how to be useful and she’d always known what to expect from one day to the next. Now the uncertainty wore her composure to a frazzle.