Blackstone's Bride (7 page)

“It was a long ride,” Abby replied. “I think I’ll stand.”

“Where
are
the children, Mr. Blackstone?” Bea asked, sitting in the big easy chair beside the fireplace. “This house is very still for having four youngsters in it.”

“They’re good kids,” he said. “Well-behaved and self-sufficient. Respectful of their elders. Quiet. Clean. They take real good care of themselves.”

“So why do you need a housekeeper?” Bea wanted to know.

“I have to be away from the house a lot of the time, and I’d feel easier if there was someone here with them.”

“I understand completely.”

A door slammed shut upstairs. Then footsteps thumped on the stairs just before all four children filed into the room.

“Hi, Abby,” they said at the same time. All except Tom.

“Hi,” she answered. “How are you?”

“We’re fine,” Katie said. “Right, Lily?”

“Right.”

Abby studied each in turn. In just five days there was more healthy color in their cheeks, more life in their eyes.
All except Tom. Oh, he looked better. She saw more energy in his rangy body. But there was a definite trace of animosity in his expression, too. He didn’t think he needed taking care of, she reminded herself. He was bound to dislike anyone who hired on as housekeeper.

Abby noted that their clothes were the ones she had first seen them in, but she would take care of that soon. She looked carefully at each of them and was satisfied that they were well.

“This is Lily,” Jarrod said, standing behind the girl, his hands on her shoulders. “The others, in order of age, are Tom, Katie, and last, but
not a baby, is
Oliver. Children, I’d like you to meet Miss Peters.”

“How do you do?” Lily said. The others mumbled greetings.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Bea said.

Jarrod cleared his throat. “Miss Peters is going to be our housekeeper.”

Katie stepped out of line
and stood in front of her sister. “But we don’t like her. Right, Lily?” Jarrod felt Lily’s shoulders tense, then she turned her sister around and put her hand over her mouth. “Hush, Katie.”

The child wiggled until she could talk. “But you said—”

“I said you should be polite. You’re being rude to Miss Peters.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” Katie said, hanging her head.

Bea shifted in the green velour chair. “No harm done, child.”

Jarrod saw Katie’s bottom lip thrust forward in a pout. Being corrected by her sister had obviously put her in a snit. But why had she decided so quickly that she didn’t like Bea? And to say it straight out that way. Katie was direct and said whatever popped into her head. Maybe she just saw something the rest of them didn’t.

He glanced at Abby, standing beside Bea’s chair. There was understanding in her eyes as she looked at Lily and Katie. She was the one who had pointed out to him that it was unfair to put Lily in the role of parent when she was still a child herself. If Abby had chosen well with the woman she’d brought them, Lily wouldn’t
have to take responsibility for her brothers and sister any longer.

Abby should be pleased that he’d said the woman would be the housekeeper. Instead she looked like something was eating her as she studied the two girls.

Abby folded her arms over her chest. “Katie? What did you mean you don’t like Bea? You just met her.”

Jarrod wanted to know the answer to that himself.

“She’s old,” Katie answered.

Jarrod studied the woman and tried to see what Katie meant. He couldn’t find anything wrong. He thought her age perfect. Not too old to keep up with the kids, but old enough that there wouldn’t be gossip about her living under his roof. She had worked in the boardinghouse, and she was a teacher. What more could he ask for?

He shouldn’t have blurted it out to the kids that she would be the new housekeeper. The only reason he could figure for the slip was lack of rest. But his gut told him the woman would do a good job. If she accepted the position—and he had no reason to think she wouldn’t—he ought to be able to sleep the night through real soon.

He looked down the line of children. “Does anyone else have anything to say? Lily?”

“Miss Peters looks very nice,” Lily said doubtfully.

Abby smiled. “She is. She was my teacher when I was in school.”

“Is she gonna make us do lessons?” Tom wanted to know.

“Absolutely, young man. An idle mind is the devil’s workshop.” Bea looked over the spectacles on the end of her nose. Her tone was firm, but not unkind.

Katie shot an angry look at her older sister and brother. “I want to learn to read and write. Mama wanted us to. Lessons are good. Right, Uncle Jarrod?”

“Right, Katie. Miss Peters is going to help out around here. And give you your lessons.”

“She can’t take Mama’s place,” Tom said angrily.

“I would never try,” the older woman told him.

Abby stepped forward quickly. “Jarrod, you did say that the children must approve of whoever you decide to hire.”

“That’s true.”

He was almost sorry he had said that. This was not going at all as he had hoped. The kids seemed to resist the woman, and he couldn’t see why.

“I have an idea,” Abby said looking at the children. “What if you spend some time alone with Miss Peters? Get to know her. She should get to know all of you too. Then you can better tell how you feel.”

“But, Abby, Uncle Jarrod.” Katie stepped away from her sister and turned to look at both of them. “We already know how we feel—”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Lily said quickly. “Uncle Jarrod, you and Abby can go do something while we get to know Miss Peters.”

“Is that all right with you, Bea?” Abby asked the woman.

“Perfectly. It makes a great deal of sense.”

Beatrice Peters hadn’t taught school all those years without learning a thing or two about children. These four were definitely up to no good. She sat in the big easy chair beside the rock fireplace and studied them.

Right after Jarrod and Abby left, Tom had disappeared to his room and returned a few minutes later. He waited in front of her now with his hand behind his back. “I have something for you,” he said.

The scamp had looked at her with nothing less than hostility since he’d first come downstairs to be introduced. Now he was smiling like a cherub. Why did children always think their elders had less brains than the good Lord gave a rock? She met his angelic expression with one of abject innocence, and braced herself. “What have you got there, young man?”

He yanked forward a bouquet of yellow dandelion weeds. “Here,” he said, thrusting them at her.

She took them from him. “How very thoughtful. Thank you, Tom.” She made a great show of smelling them. “Did
you know that these leaves are edible?” she asked as Tom sat on the stone hearth, very close beside her. She eyed him with a good deal of suspicion, but was distracted when Katie came closer.

The little girl rested her elbows on the arm of the chair, thrust her chin into her hands and tipped her head to the side. “Ed Bull? Who’s that?”

“Not a who, dear. Ed-i-ble means you can eat them. They make a fortifying soup, and tasty too.”

“You don’t like soup. Remember, Katie?” Lily stood beside Oliver, looking a little nervous. Bea realized the girl hadn’t been able to meet her gaze since she had come downstairs.

“I liked Mama’s soup,” Katie corrected. Her green-eyed gaze turned to Bea. “Did you know the angels took my mama to heaven?”

“Yes, dear. Abby told me,” Bea said softly.

“I have bad dreams about a mean man coming to get me. Mama went because she was tired, and that made her ready to go.”

“Katie hasn’t slept all night since Mama passed away,” Lily said. “Poor Uncle Jarrod gets up with her constantly.”

“That’s why he wants me to come stay,” Bea said. “What do you think about that?”

Lily glanced up quickly, then back down at her hands. “I think you probably wouldn’t like getting up with her every night.”

“Why don’t you let me worry about that. Is there anything else I should know?” she asked.

Katie thought for a minute, then piped up, “Oliver wets the bed. And he has accidents—”

“Do not.”

Bea looked at the boy sitting cross-legged at her feet, thumb in mouth. “I’ll bet the outhouse is just too far away. Isn’t that right, Oliver?”

He nodded without removing his thumb.

“What else?” Bea asked, looking at the young faces. She glanced beside her at Tom, who quickly moved his hand
away from her skirt and stuck it in his pocket. “What about you, young man? Do you have anything to add?”

“I can take care of myself. Don’t need a housekeeper.”

“Your uncle disagrees, and if you think we can all get along together, I’ll be taking the job. What do you say?”

Lily smiled thinly. “We’d like that. Right everyone?”

There was a chorus of weak assent. Then Bea looked at Katie. “But I think there are some things we should straighten out first. Dear, you said you didn’t like me. Have you changed your mind?”

The little girl thought for a minute, glanced over her shoulder at Lily, who shook her head slightly, then looked back. “No’m.”

These children had made up their minds before meeting her. Why?

“You’re honest, child. I like that.” Katie beamed. “But what is it you don’t like? Perhaps if we talk about it, we can—”

A loud croaking noise interrupted her at the same time she felt something wiggle around in the pocket of her skirt. Aha, she thought, the dandelions were a decoy, a way to get close to the real objective. The children glanced at each other expectantly.

If they wanted screaming and carrying on, they were barking up the wrong tree, Bea thought. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a medium-sized frog. She held him up, letting his legs and webbed feet dangle as she looked him over carefully, then pronounced, “He’s a fine fellow. Thank you, Tom. I like him better than the dandelions.”

The boy’s gray eyes widened with something close to admiration. “You do—”

“Did you know that frogs eat insects? He’ll have a feast this year. After all the rain, there will be a bumper crop of mosquitoes and flies. And aren’t you glad he’ll be around to do that? He will certainly make our life more comfortable. Don’t you think?”

Bea stroked her finger along the frog’s back, and the
children’s jaws dropped. Oliver’s thumb fell out of his mouth.

She extended the frog. “Katie, would you like to hold him?”

The little girl squealed and jumped away. “No’m. I don’t even like bedbugs. Does he bite? Uncle Jarrod says bedbugs don’t, it’s just a ‘spression. But I don’t wanna find out. And I don’t wanna hold him,” she said, jamming her hands behind her back.

“Oliver?”

He shook his head. “Gotta go,” he said, and raced from the room.

“Anyone else?” she asked the others.

Lily and Tom shook their heads. Bea put the frog on her palm and he croaked loudly. Without warning, he leapt from her hand and Lily and Katie squealed. Tom laughed. The animal poised in the middle of the wool carpet, seeming almost at home on the patterned rug done in shades of white, goldenrod, and bright emerald-green. Only the bubble beneath the frog’s chin puffing in and out at an alarming rate told Bea he was nervous and frightened.

“Tom,” she said, spearing the older boy with a stern look. “Catch the poor creature before he hurts himself and take him outside where he belongs. Put him back where you got him. And don’t harm him. Do you understand?”

He nodded. “Yes’m.”

“Good.” When he was gone, she looked at the two girls. “Would either of you young ladies care to explain to me what’s going on?”

“Not me,” Katie said. “I was just s’posed to ask questions. That’s what I do best,” she said proudly. “Right, Lily?”

When Lily turned the shade of a sun-ripened tomato, Bea’s suspicions were confirmed. A conspiracy was definitely afoot.

Lily looked down, then reluctantly lifted her gaze. “It’s not you, Miss Peters. We’ve been planning this for anyone Abby brought.”

“But why, child? Your uncle obviously wants and needs help.”

“We know that. But we decided we want him to hire Abby as our housekeeper.”

“Why not come right out and ask your uncle to do that?”

Lily shook her head. “He already did and she said no.”

“How do you know?”

“We overheard them talking.”

“Did anyone ever tell you eavesdropping is underhanded and not a very nice thing to do?”

“Yes’m,” Lily said. “But when Mama was alive, she always told us things were fine, to protect us. We knew different. We felt it was better to know what was going on, so we started listening in.”

“I see.” Bea’s heart went out to the children. She wanted to see them get what they wanted for a change. “Why did Abby turn down the job?”

“She said she already has one and her life is in town. I think she and Uncle Jarrod don’t like each other.”

“Is that so?” Bea asked, making her own assessment of what Jarrod and Abby felt. “So you plan to play this little game with everyone Abby brings to meet your uncle. Why? What if I decide to accept the job in spite of your shenanigans?”

“Uncle Jarrod said he wouldn’t hire anyone we didn’t like.”

Bea nodded in understanding. “So the plan is to scare everyone off. That’s not fair to Jarrod.”

“We figure Abby will feel sorry for him and be our housekeeper.” Lily hung her head. “Are you gonna tell Uncle Jarrod what we did? He’ll probably send us away to an orphan home.”

Bea snorted. “I doubt that. Jarrod Blackstone takes his responsibilities seriously.” She studied the girls for a moment, then said, “Let’s discuss this with the boys when they come back and we’ll see what we can do.”

Abby sat on a swing hanging from the sturdy branches of two huge oak trees. It was early afternoon, but the foliage
was so thick, only dappled sunlight penetrated. A warm breeze blew the hair around her face as she gently moved back and forth. Abby didn’t remember seeing the swing the last time she’d been at Blackstone Ranch.

She looked up at Jarrod, who leaned one broad shoulder against the thick tree trunk as he watched her with an unreadable expression on his face.