A Chance at Love (22 page)

“Well, I say we pool our corn crops this year and let the big owners bid,” Jake said then.

Paul Fletcher pointed out sagely, “Some men up near Topeka tried that tactic and failed.”

“Only because they didn't stick together,” Arthur countered. “Some withheld part of their crops and made side deals. It undercut the others, and the whole alliance fell apart.”

“That won't happen here,” Matt Peterson declared.

Fletcher groused, “How do you know?”

“Because we're all honest men, Paul,” Jake said.

The big-jowled Fletcher didn't look convinced. Jake wondered how long it would be before Fletcher went his own way. Jake didn't see him sticking it out, for many reasons. The least being, the man was afraid.

Art said, “Well, Jake, I say we form an alliance and see what happens. If we don't get what we want—well, at least we will have tried. It isn't as if we're getting rich doing it this way.”

The rest of the men agreed. At least everyone but Fletcher, who said, “I need to think about this some more. You all are relatively young men, I'm not. If I'm going to take this risk, I have to be sure it's right.”

Jake's jaw tightened, but he said evenly, “Take some time, then. We'll need your decision by midweek.”

Fifty-year-old Brass Barber owned a farm almost as large as Fletcher's. Until this point in the meeting, the black-skinned, gray-haired Brass had been content to keep his own counsel, as was his way, and had not offered any comment. He did now. “Paul,” he told Fletcher point
edly, “if you decide not to go with us, I expect you to keep everything you've heard here tonight to yourself.”

Fletcher squirmed under Barber's direct eyes. “Of course, I will.”

No one believed him for a minute.

Jake said, “All right, then. How about we meet again next Sunday?”

Art cleared his throat to get Jake's attention.

A puzzled Jake asked, “What?”

“You're getting married on Saturday, remember?”

Suddenly remembering that to be true, Jake dropped his head with amused embarrassment.

As the men laughed, and those unaware of Jake's upcoming nuptials offered congratulations, Art added, “I don't think Loreli's gonna want us hanging around.”

Jake grinned. “You're right, Art. Thanks. How about we meet in two weeks, then?”

Everyone thought that a better plan.

“Meeting adjourned,” Jake then declared.

Paul Fletcher practically ran from the barn. The others shook their heads.

After his departure, Jake told the rest of the men, “I'd hoped tonight's meeting would help us determine which of our members were weak and which strong.”

Matt Peterson cracked, “Guess you got your answer.”

Jake nodded. “I did, so since we all know Paul's not going to join us, I can now tell you the truth. Sometime around mid-August, a man from the Knights of Labor will be coming down to initiate us.”

You could hear a pin drop as the five men stiffened with surprise. They all turned Jake's way and stared.

Jake confessed, “I lied about not having been contacted earlier because I wasn't sure where everyone stood.”

Barber chuckled and shook his head knowingly. “You always were the cleverest one around, even as a boy.”

Jake had known Brass Barber most of his life. He accepted the compliment with a smile. “Thanks.”

“So, what do we have to do to prepare?” Art asked.

“I'll let you know when we meet again in two weeks.”

Wayne Young said, “I hear they have a secret ceremony. That true?”

Jake didn't reply.

The men noted Jake's stance and Barber quipped, “Jake's always been a sphinx when need be too.”

The men laughed. They gave their good-nights and headed for their wagons. Art was the last to leave. He and Jake stood outside the barn, watching the late evening settle in.

“Fletcher's going to run right to Diggs,” Art said knowingly.

“He won't have much to tell, other than the news that we're pooling our crops.”

Art thought about it a moment. “I suppose you're right. We didn't make any ironclad plans or discuss any strategies.”

“Correct. So Fletcher knows nothing.”

Art smiled. “You're always thinking, Jake. Guess that's why you're our leader.”

Jake looked toward the house and saw Loreli and the girls set off for a stroll. Loreli had changed out of that stunning yellow dress and into a plain brown skirt and blouse.

Art turned to see what had drawn Jake's attention, then smiled. “That's some woman, Jake. How'd you manage to land her?”

“I didn't. The girls did.”

He then told Arthur the story. All of it.

When Jake was done with the telling, Art could only stare, then upon finding his voice said, “And she agreed to marry you?”

“Yep, and in the meantime, I'll look for somebody else.”

“Why not ask her to stay? You two seem to get along.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Look at her, Art. Do you think a woman like that is going to want to spend the rest of her life smelling hogs?”

Art sighed his surrender. “You do have a point.”

“Even if I could convince her to stay, she wouldn't be happy. She's a city woman. She can't even cook, for heaven's sake.”

“She's beautiful, though.”

“No denying that,” Jake agreed, his tone admiring. “Will you stand up with me at the wedding?”

“Sure.” Art then peered over at his old friend Jake, and as men often do, asked, “Well, have you and her—”

Jake didn't even look at him. “Shut up, Art. That's none of your business.”

Art showed his palms in surrender. “Sorry. Just curious.”

Jake turned to him finally and his mustache lifted with amusement. “Go home. Denise is probably waiting.”

Art tossed back, “Nothing like having your own personal, willing woman waiting, Jake. You should try it.”

Jake chuckled. “Go home, you ox.”

Art headed toward his wagon and waved good-bye.

 

After hearing the girls' prayers and kissing them good-night, Loreli and Jake stepped out onto the porch. The sun was going down, and Loreli was once again transfixed by its fiery red beauty. “I love your sunsets, Jake.”

Jake thought the beauty of the sunset pale in comparison to the fiery sapphire woman standing on his porch.

“How'd your meeting go?”

“Not bad. I think we lost one person tonight, though.”

“Is that good or bad?” she asked.

“Good probably. He's a friend of Diggs.”

“Ah,” she voiced, then directed her attention back to the sunset.

Jake ran his eyes over the slope of her shoulders and down the curves of her waist and hips. His vow to stay away from her until the wedding night rose up to taunt him mightily. He wanted to touch her so badly, his heart was pounding, his hands ached. Remembering Art's comments about willing, waiting women taunted him also. Jake had to dig deep into his will not to go to her side, but in the end, desire won out. He walked up behind her, and after lightly placing his hands on her shoulders, slowly stroked her arms up and down. Leaning toward her, he fervently brushed his lips across the back of her neck, whispering, “I have to touch you…”

Loreli melted back against his hard frame as naturally as if they'd been doing this their entire lives. The hands moving ever so slowly over her arms were hot, gentle. She turned her head so their eyes could meet, then asked sultrily, playfully, “Have we been introduced?”

His lips against her ear, his hands still savoring the soft, warm flesh of her arms, Jake breathed, “I believe we have. I'm the one taking the lessons…”

Loreli's amusement mingled with her rising reaction to his hands and lips. She husked out, “I remember you now.”

“Good, wouldn't want you to forget me.”

She turned to face him and her golden eyes were suddenly serious. “There's no chance of that.”

Her answer pleased him, and he reached out and ran his finger down her silken cheek. “I'm glad.”

Entranced, Jake slowly moved his finger to trace her parted lips. He wanted this woman so very much. “I'm not supposed to be doing this, am I?”

Her reply was a whisper, “No.”

He bent down and kissed her so passionately and thoroughly, Loreli melted right there on the spot.

Her desire rising, eyes closed, Loreli purred, “You must be trying to get promoted.”

“And, go to the head of the class…” Jake's manhood, aroused and ready, demanded he do something about the passionate ache she caused, but he'd made a vow. “But not tonight. Tonight, I have to say—good night, Loreli.”

Loreli tried to think of something that might make him stay. She didn't want him to go. “Sit and talk with me a while. You don't have to run off.”

Even as Jake yearned to pull her into his arms, he knew he had to leave her. “If I stay, we won't be talking.”

She studied him, then said seriously, “I'm willing.”

“I know, but a man should stand by his words.”

Loreli wanted to make love until the sun rose, and he did too; she could see it in his dark eyes, feel it in his
touch, and hear it in the timbre of his voice. However, he seemed to be ruled by something more noble than lust, and she had to respect him for that reason. “Then go on to bed. I won't tempt you.”

“Just looking at you tempts me,” he confessed, taking in her face and form. Jake thought about the men in her past. Had they too been as bewitched by all that she was? He quickly set aside thoughts of the others; he didn't want their ghosts looming over the short time he'd have with her. He bent to touch his lips to hers. “Good night,” he whispered.

Loreli reached up and stroked her finger against his firm jaw. “Good night.”

And he was gone.

That night, as darkness fell over the land, Loreli slept with such peace and contentment, she didn't even notice the rock-hard bed.

 

The next morning, after breakfast, Jake rode off to check on the health of Bert Green's new foal while Loreli and the girls stayed behind; today was Monday, and Monday was washday.

Dede, watching Loreli fill the big caldrons with water from the pump, asked, “But why is Monday always wash day, Loreli? Uncle Jake never washed on Mondays.”

Loreli shrugged. “Well, your Uncle Jake's not a woman, and in the woman's rule book, Monday is always the day you wash.” Loreli was glad she had a vivid imagination. Coming up with answers to the dozens of questions the girls seemed to have every day often took honesty, ingenuity, and in some cases, downright guile. Of course there was no official woman's rule book, but
women had rules just the same, and the girls needed to know they existed even if the book was an imaginary one.

While the water heated on the big grate in the pit behind the house, the girls took Loreli to meet all the animals. Bebe pointed to a big brown hen, who at their approach raised her head to eye Loreli sharply. “That's Suzie. She's the boss hen.”

Dede added, “She even bosses Uncle Jake.”

Loreli eyed the hen. The hen continued to fix Loreli with her stare. “She looks pretty mean.”

“She is, but not to us,” Bebe said easily.

They then pointed out the other three hens: Babe, Peg and Myrtle.

“That's Mr. Cook up on the roof of the barn.”

Loreli looked up and saw a rooster seated on the roof. “What's he doing up there?”

“Suzie doesn't like him, so he stays up there so she won't peck him.”

Loreli looked back at Suzie, who was still eyeing Loreli malevolently. Loreli made a point to stay out of Suzie's way. “Why is the rooster's name Mr. Cook?”

“That's who Uncle Jake got him from.”

“Ah, I see,” Loreli said.

They passed the large and smelly hog pens with its fat, slow-moving hogs.

Bebe informed them, “Some of the hogs are mean, 'specially when there's piglets. Uncle won't let us come here when there's piglets.”

A wary Loreli asked, “Are there piglets now?”

“Nope.”

Loreli thought that good news. Some of the hogs were as big around as a large tree trunk. She certainly wouldn't
want to have a confrontation with them. If the smell didn't kill you, the solid weight of one falling on you would.

The girls showed her the ducks and their downy ducklings. She met Emily the sleek, gray mouser, and her brood of new kittens. The girls then took her to greet the two dogs that Loreli had previously seen prowling the property like lawmen. Bebe knelt beside one dog whose black wolf-like appearance made Loreli a bit nervous. Bebe rubbed him lovingly, and the dog turned his head and dragged his large tongue across her face. She squealed with delight. She hastily wiped her hands across her face. Dede giggled.

Bebe said to Loreli, “This is Pal. His mama was a wolf, but she died in a trap. Uncle found Pal and brought him home.”

“Curl up your fingers, Loreli, and let him sniff your hand,” Dede then told Loreli. “That way he'll know you live here.”

A bit apprehensive because the black dog was so big, Loreli came forward anyway and held out her hand. The dog ran his nose over her balled fist, then looked up at her.

Dede commanded gently, “Say hi, Pal.”

The dog barked. Loreli laughed and reached down to pet him. She could feel the strong muscles beneath his black coat. “Hello, Pal.”

Loreli and the girls spent a few moments with the fierce-looking Pal, then it was time to meet the sheepdog, Rabbit. The gray in his coat and the age in his eyes made Loreli believe Rabbit was much older than Pal. Mimicking the same actions she'd used to introduce herself to Pal, Loreli let Rabbit sniff her hand. While the dog took in her scent and the girls stroked him, Loreli asked, “Why is he called Rabbit?”