Heartland Courtship (5 page)

Chapter Three

O
n the dusty drive home, Rachel felt unsettled again. She tried not to think of those first few days on the journey here when nothing had seemed right and she hadn’t been able to eat. And sitting beside this handsome man who’d stood up for her added more confusion.

“How soon could I move into my cabin?” she asked, forcing herself to stop musing.

“Just need a day or two to get it cleaned out and fix the roof.”

“I will do the cleaning so thee can concentrate on the fixing.” She had succeeded in staking her homestead claim. She should be experiencing relief but she wasn’t. Her stomach churned.
What’s wrong with me?

The ride home passed much more quickly than the ride to the homestead and then to town. The hot sun beat down on Rachel’s shoulders and bonnet. But she found herself more aware of Mr. Merriday with every mile. She hadn’t expected him to abet her in town. Also she’d seen in Mr. Ashford’s expression that having the Southerner work for her would be frowned on.
Well, so be it.

When Noah’s cabin came into view, Rachel’s heart started jumping oddly. She stiffened her self-control and tried to remain unmoved as Brennan helped her down from the wagon with his usual courtesy, which was not usual to her.

Noah hailed them from outside his woodshop. With their little boy in her arms, Sunny opened the door and greeted her warmly.

Rachel burst into tears.

Everyone rushed forward as if she’d fallen, which shamed her. She turned away, trying to hide her face.

Sunny came to her and grasped her elbow. “Come. I’ll make you some tea.”

When Rachel looked up, the two men had disappeared with little Dawn and only she and Sunny went to the bench outside the cabin. Rachel sat while Sunny went inside. The toddler in his dress rolled in the grass, playing with his toes. Tears dripping down her face, Rachel watched him, envying his innocence.

Soon Sunny handed her a cup of tea and sat beside her. “Was the land agent very rude?” Sunny asked conversationally.

“Of course he was.” Wiping her eyes with her hankie, Rachel tried to keep bitterness from her tone, but failed. “Why are men so...?” Words failed her.

Sunny made a sound of agreement. “They certainly can be.”

Rachel sipped the sweet, tangy tea. “Life would be easier if I just went along with what’s expected of me,” she finally admitted.

More tea. “Yes, but would that be easier on you?”

“No!” Rachel’s reply flew from her lips.

“Then you will just have to thicken your skin.”

Rachel sighed. “I thought I had.”

“It’s just this starting out part. Everyone here will get to know you, begin to see that you’re a good person. You’ll become part of the town and then they’ll resent anybody who disparages you.”

Rachel turned to Sunny. “Really?”

“Yes, that’s how it happened with us.”

“Really?”

Sunny beamed at her. “Noah’s the preacher now.”

For some reason, Rachel couldn’t swallow a chuckle. Then the two of them were laughing out loud.

In a while, no doubt drawn by the sounds of mirth, the men approached, looking as if the women’s behavior mystified them. And that only caused Rachel and Sunny to shake with more laughter.

* * *

The next day Brennan climbed the ladder onto the roof of Rachel’s cabin, no clouds masking the hot sun. He crawled across the rough surface till he reached the spot where he thought the leak was. Three wooden shakes or shingles had blown loose.

His lady boss was humming below, sweeping out her cabin. And soon Noah would arrive to start work on the large oven Miss Rachel needed for her business. The question over whether to add a kitchen to the cabin had been debated completely. Finally a summer kitchen connected by a covered walkway to the cabin had been deemed best.

Thinking of Noah, Brennan found himself filled with potent envy. Noah Whitmore had it all—a place of his own, a pretty wife and two great kids.

Reminiscence of a time when he’d thought Noah’s kind of life would always be his life goaded him. Lorena’s slender arms slipped around his neck and her soft voice—

Then the worst happened—one of his infrequent spells hit him. The past flooded him. Waves of darkness engulfed him. That awful day before the war? Or all the awful days of war after it rolled into one? He was surrounded. Fists pounding him, the stench of stale sweat, curses bombarded him. He tried to keep his eyes open, tried to keep in touch with his surroundings—which way was up and which was down. He lost.

He felt himself sliding, the rough shingles hitting his spine as he slid. He wrenched his eyes open and at the last minute jammed his heels into another space where shingles had been blown away. His hands scrabbled for something to cling to. He stopped and then he lay back, gasping for air.

“Is thee all right?” Miss Rachel called up.

Brennan couldn’t answer. The world still tilted and swayed around him. Then he heard Miss Rachel climbing up the ladder.

He had to stop her, couldn’t let her see him like this. Brennan wanted to send her away with a flea in her ear, anything to prevent her from asking what the matter was. Upon the rare occasion when he had one of these spells, he just left town.

But I can’t leave this town. And Noah saved my life as much as the little spinster.
Brennan waited for the inevitable questions.

But Miss Rachel asked none.

Brennan finally could sit up. His slide had taken him within a foot of the ladder and there stood Miss Rachel near his boots. Still she didn’t speak. Brennan’s heartbeat and breathing slowed to normal. He didn’t know what to say. Better to let her think he just slid. “Sorry to give you a scare, Miss Rachel.”

She tilted her head like one of the robins nesting in the tree nearby. She reached out her hand to him.

And surprising himself, he took it.

“Please be careful, Brennan Merriday. I wouldn’t want to see thee laid low again.”

He tried to ignore the softness of the hand in his. Tried to ignore the fact that the sun glinted off the threads of gold in her hair and that her expression drew him like bees to honey. In any other woman, he would have interpreted her comment as selfish, as indicating that she wanted him to keep well and in working condition. But did this woman have a selfish bone in her body?

The moment was broken when they heard Noah’s whistling.

Their hands pulled apart. She blushed and he looked away.

“Morning, Rachel. Brennan, I was thinking,” Noah called out as he approached them, “it makes more sense for us to work together. I think we’ll get more done. Why don’t I hand you the shakes we cut? You can be nailing new ones in place and I’ll go over the roof, checking every shake to make sure none are loose. I don’t think Ryerson did a very good job on his roof. Then you can help me with the oven.”

“Sounds good to me,” Brennan said, forcing out the words.

Miss Rachel slowly disappeared from view as she climbed back down the ladder. Brennan felt the loss of her and hardened himself. What had they been thinking? Holding hands in broad daylight?

* * *

About two weeks later Rachel tried to calm her fluttering nerves. Tonight she’d stay alone in her cabin for the first time. As the shadows darkened, Noah’s family, who had helped her move in today with her new table and chairs and bed Noah had made her, was leaving. Sunny had helped her prepare the first meal in her new home. The day had been busy and happy. A nearby farmer had delivered her young cow, chickens and a rooster. Now she would have cream and eggs for her baking. But Brennan’s distant behavior had pruned her enjoyment of the occasion.

Noah’s wagon had just turned the bend out of sight when Brennan ambled over to help her carry the last of the chairs inside.

“Thee didn’t join in much today,” she said.

“Didn’t feel sociable.”

She sensed that he was about to lay out the last chores he would be doing for her and then announce he’d be leaving. His restlessness over the past few days had not gone unnoticed. She didn’t like the gloom that realization opened inside her. Yet she’d wanted to be on her own and now she would be.

Three strangers appeared on the track to her cabin. This was an odd occurrence. “Hello, may I help thee?” Rachel called out, though as they came closer she recognized that the three looked disreputable.

“We’re looking for the lousy Confederate you got here!” one declared, slurring his words from drink, no doubt.

“Yeah, we don’t want any scurvy dogs like that hanging around,” another added belligerently.

To her dismay, Brennan picked up a tree limb lying on the ground and moved to confront the men.

“The war is over,” Rachel said, trying to stem the confrontation.

Brennan ignored her. “There is a lady present here. From your voices, I’d say you men have been imbibing today. Too liberally.”

The men glowered at her. Even in their inebriated state, Brennan saw, they realized that fighting with a proper lady present would be roundly condemned.

Rachel stepped forward, hoping her presence would send the strangers away.

Instead, a fist shot past her.

Brennan dodged it easily. Then he slammed his fist into his attacker’s nose. Blood spurted.

Rachel cried out. Brennan pushed her out of the fray. She stumbled and fell to the grass.

The other stranger rushed Brennan. He dealt with him. The third one turned and bolted. The two who had been bested followed suit, cursing as they ran.

Rachel put her hands to her ears, shocked to silence. “Oh!”

Just as they disappeared from view, the first one, his hand pressed over his bleeding nose, shouted, “This isn’t over!”

“Yes, it is,” Brennan muttered, rubbing his knuckles.

Rachel began to weep, trembling.

Brennan gripped her hands and pulled her up and into his arms. “There, there,” he said, holding her against him. “You’re safe now. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.”

The temptation proved too great to resist. She let herself lean against him, feeling the strength of him supporting her. She tried to stop her tears. “I’m sorry to be so weak.”

“I’m sorry you had to witness such behavior.” As he said this, his lips actually touched her ear. “You’re not weak.”

The last of the weeping swept through her like a wind gust and left her gasping against him. “I’ve never been near violence before.”

“Then you’re a lucky woman.” He patted her back clumsily.

She wiped her face with her fingertips and looked up into Brennan’s face. His expression of concern moved her and she reached up and stroked his cheek.

What am I doing?

Rachel straightened and stepped back. She must break contact before he did. An unwelcome thought lowered her mood more. Tonight would be her first night sleeping alone in her own house. She’d never spent a night alone in her life. And these violent men had come tonight.

“Maybe I should sleep in the shed tonight,” Brennan said, his gaze going to the trail to town.

The idea had appeal. But she would be here alone every night, perhaps for the rest of her life.

In the clearing, Rachel and Brennan faced each other. “Thee doesn’t think I am really in danger of them coming here again tonight?”

Brennan bumped the toe of his boot into a tussock of wild, dry grass. “No, not because the three show any sense, but they’re probably all passed out from drink by now.”

Rachel stared at the ground, listening to the frogs in the nearby creek.

“I’ll bar my door,” she said with a lift of her chin, which belied her inner trembling.

“Maybe you’d be better off if I didn’t hang around any longer.”

“Brennan Merriday, in case thee has not noticed by now, I am not a woman who gives way to pressure from others. I have hired thee and I expect thee will show up for breakfast tomorrow and continue the work that still needs doing here.”

He looked up.

And suddenly she was very aware of how alone they were here just outside her door. Funny sensations jiggled in her stomach. “You were very brave,” she murmured.

He started digging at the tussock of grass again with the toe of his boot.

Her mind flashed back to her schoolgirl days. She’d watched boys do this when they talked to girls they liked but didn’t want to show it. Did he like her that way?

She turned abruptly. “I bid thee good night.”

“Okay, Miss Rachel, I’ll head to my place then. See you in the mornin’.”

She didn’t trust herself to reply. The desire to hold him here and the residual fear had worsened and she was afraid her voice would give her away. She entered, shut the door and lifted the bar into place. Few cabins had such. But Noah had insisted on this and now she understood why.

Once inside, she scanned the inside of her new home. Sunny had helped her wash the dishes so there was nothing to do. Noah had made her a rocking chair as a gift. She sat in it now and tried not to feel her lonely state. She picked up the socks she’d started to knit for Brennan as a going away thank-you. The thought hit her as unwelcome.

For just a second, she imagined Brennan Merriday sitting on a chair across from her, whittling the way he always did. She was knitting and the two of them enjoyed that companionable quiet that happily married couples sometimes shared.

Where did that come from?

She shook off this foolishness, put down her knitting and lifted her small portable desk. She began working again on a recipe she’d thought of, something with chocolate and nuts no man could resist. Except Brennan Merriday in one of his touchy moods.

She would have to be very careful around him—he was too handsome for his own good—and hers—and he was staying to help her. She thought of his courtesies. Brennan Merriday treated her like an attractive woman, not a spinster. This alone must be working on her, drawing her to him.

But he carried some deep wound and would be leaving very soon. Even if he was momentarily attracted to her, nothing would come of it. Nothing ever had. And she’d accepted being alone, hadn’t she?

* * *

Brennan marched to town, boiling for a fight. Cold reason halted him a few yards from the saloon. Only a fool barged into to a three-to-one fight. He planned his strategy and sidled to a side window. What he saw flummoxed him.