Homespun Hearts (9 page)

A
s the herd
entered the upper pastures of the Heart of the Mountains ranch, the three McCutcheon brothers rode side by side at their head. Luke was pleased to finally be home, herd intact and each man alive and well, everything considered, though the constant lowing of the cattle attested to their uneasiness from crossing the river and then being pushed hard to their final destination.

He reined up, followed by Matt and Mark. Lifting his arm and gesturing, Luke gave the command to circle up and settle down the weary cattle.

“You did well, little brother,” Matt said affectionately, giving Luke a nod and then looking to the herd. “If it hadn’t been for your fast action, Ma would be heartbroken tonight. And Amy would be a widow.”

Luke grinned and looked at Mark. His brother had been unusually quiet the whole ride back, and Luke wondered what he was thinking about. There was something strange between Mark and Amy, his wife. Things weren’t quite as they should be between newlyweds. He knew it troubled his ma and Flood greatly, watching the sparks fly, or not fly, between the two. Why, it troubled the whole clan, if he were honest. What affected one McCutcheon usually affected them all.

He joked, “Honestly, I was only thinking of myself. Ma would’ve had my hide pinned to the smokehouse door if we returned without him.”

“That’s a fact, Luke,” Matt agreed. “And we’d have had to hear scripture from here till kingdom come.” He glanced to Smokey, who was signaling that the circling had begun. “Let’s let the men finish up here and get down to the house. The two wagons should be there by now, and I’m hankering to get my arms around Rachel. It’s been a long drive.”

Mark perked up. At the mention of his pregnant sister-in-law, a spark of humor brightened his somber face. “If you can still get your arms around her. She was pretty circular when we left. I can’t picture what she must look like now.”

“I’ll manage,” Matt said with a wink. “You don’t know Rachel the way I do.” And with that, Matt’s horse took off like a shot. Luke and Mark rode hot on his heels.

The brothers clamored into the yard, past the bunkhouse where all the ranch hands lived and reined up in front of the barn. Matt and Mark finished in a dead heat, Luke followed by two horse lengths.

Francis ran from the barn, excitement on his face. “They’re all waiting for ya in the house. You should’ve seen your ma’s face when she spotted Faith and the baby,” the youth said, smiling. He sobered, his forehead creased with worry. “I hope you don’t mind, Luke. I spilled the beans about how you rescued Mark.”

The ranch house door flew open, smacking against the giant log-and-chink wall with a thud. Charity, dressed from head to toe in fringed buckskin, strawberry blonde hair flying, dashed from the house and vaulted into Luke’s arms. He swung her around playfully in a bear hug and set her down.

“Where’s your skirt?” Luke scolded his sister. “You promised when I got home you’d be wearing one.”

“I tried, Luke, really I did,” she laughed. “I just can’t get used to all that fabric hanging around my legs. Trips me up every time.”

Luke laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “What are we going to do with you?”

Charity went over to Matt and Mark and hugged them and kissed them both on the cheek. Finished with her greetings, she shook her finger in the air. “It’s about time you boys got home. You’re late,” she admonished. The men had handed their reins over to Francis and were walking toward the ranch house. “Ma was starting to fret and drive us all crazy. I’m going with you next time, and you can’t stop me.”

“We’ll see about that,” Matt said, chucking her under the chin. He stepped past her and hurried into the house.

Charity stopped Luke before he went inside. There was an odd gleam in her eye. “You’re not disappearing on me tonight. I have
so
much to tell you.”

“Is it about Brandon Crawford?”

“Why on earth would I want to talk about
him
?” Her suddenly breathless tone confirmed Luke’s belief that his little sister and good friend, the sheriff, were falling for each other. She was still way too young to be thinking about marriage, but the thought had crossed his mind. They’d known each other for years, and nothing would make Luke happier. Brandon was a good man and would fit well here.

“I don’t know. Maybe because before I left two months ago, according to you, he was the only man on the face of the earth worth talking about.”

She slugged him in the arm playfully and ran inside.

F
aith watched
the reunion between brothers and sister from the large plate glass window. She’d shied away from the group of women who were making a fuss over Dawn and Colton, opting instead for the safety of the beautiful tapestry chair. Carefully holding Mrs. McCutcheon’s bone china teacup, she marveled at all the beautiful things in the house and watched Luke’s mother rock Dawn back and forth.

Flood McCutcheon stood in the doorway, tall and distinguished, his handsome face topped with gray-streaked chestnut hair. Beaming with pride, radiating happiness, he embraced each one of his sons as they stepped across the threshold. “Welcome home, boys,” he boomed. “It’s been much too quiet without you here.”

“Hello, Pa—Ma,” Matt and Mark both said as they entered the room. And in three fast strides Matt was smothering his wife in a powerful embrace, kissing her ardently.

“Ease up now, Son,” Flood said, laughing. “Give Rachel some air. She’s too close to her time for such tomfoolery.”

“You’re right,” Matt replied, pulling back and running his hand proudly down her swollen belly. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

Rachel just smiled and laced her arm through his. Her eyes sparkled happily, promising a true reunion when they were alone.

Matt looked around. “Where are my boys?”

“Off somewhere playing. They’ll be along soon, with nightfall coming on,” Mrs. McCutcheon said. She was carrying Dawn. She kissed Matt and Mark but stopped in front of Luke. “And how did the drive go?” she asked.

“Fine, Ma,” he replied. His eyes came to rest on Dawn sleeping peacefully in his mother’s arms, and the corners of his lips tipped up.

“Good.” She laid her hand upon his arm. “I knew it would.”

Then, she turned to Mark. “Amy’s waiting on a kiss,” she prompted softly.

Hat in hand, Luke’s brother walked stiffly to his wife. Bending, he brushed a quick kiss to her creamy cheek. “Hello, Amy,” he said. “How are you?”

“Fine.” The young woman’s answer was hollow. She dropped her gaze and turned, hurrying into the kitchen. Everyone watched as the door swung closed.

Faith wished she could evaporate into a mist and float from the room unnoticed. This was much too personal to be watching. She’d seen Luke glance her way a couple of times, though mostly he just stood there under the massive set of longhorns hanging above the fireplace. High above that, a beautiful skinned hide of brown and white was stretched tight on the wall. It was all very masculine, and Luke and his brothers and father fit right in.

Claire McCutcheon, her trim figure clad in gray velveteen, turned to her. Everyone else’s attention followed. “And I assume you’ve been treating our guests well, Luke?” she said, cuddling the baby close.

“As well as you can on a cattle drive,” her son answered, perhaps a bit defensively.

Charity pulled her brother over to the settee. She tugged him down next to her. Faith saw that no-nonsense, leave-me-be look written on his face, the one that could freeze her insides faster than a snowstorm. His sister didn’t seem to notice it at all.

“Tell us how you rescued Mark from the river, Luke,” she begged, adoration shining in her eyes.

“Later, Charity.”

“Please. Francis told us some, but we want to hear it from you. How you had to ride a good quarter mile in swift water and hold on to Mark until that other man could reach him.”

“I think the story is growing already,” Luke said. “It wasn’t near that far.”

Faith saw a flicker of pain flash across Luke’s face. His mother must have seen it, too, for she swooped in to the rescue.

“Charity, please go check on Esperanza and see if the water is hot yet for more tea. I know your brothers would love a cup before supper.”

Charity gave her mother an I-know-what-you’re-up-to look, but got up promptly to do her bidding. When the swinging kitchen door closed, Mrs. McCutcheon raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Daughters,” she groaned, drawing the laughter of everyone in the room. “My sons were so much easier at this age. All they wanted to do was ride with their father and tend cattle. It was years before they discovered there was an opposite sex.”

“That’s true,” Flood spoke up. “But then all hell broke loose.” He puffed up like a proud rooster, and everyone laughed as Mrs. McCutcheon scolded him for his language.

The door banged opened, and in ran two young boys. They headed straight for Matt and wrapped their arms around him.

“Faith and Colton, these two lads are my boys. The tallest is William, but we call him Billy. He’s probably just a year or two older than you,” he said, nodding to Colton, who stood quietly by Faith’s chair. “And this is Adam. He just turned five.” Matt affectionately tousled Adam’s golden hair. “Boys, this is Faith and Colton Brown.”

Billy said hello, and Adam squirmed around in his dad’s embrace. Adam’s wide smile revealed two missing front teeth.

“Boys,” Matt said, “why don’t you take Colton out and show him the barn?”

Colton edged closer to Faith’s chair. She reached out and nudged him. “It’s all right, Colton, we’ll be fine.”

Her stepson looked at the boys but didn’t move a muscle.

“Firefly is still tied to your wagon, Colton. Show her to my nephews. I know they’d like to see your horse,” Luke said with a wink.

To this, Colton responded. He hastily met Matt’s sons as they ran to the door.

“No running in the house, please,” Mrs. McCutcheon admonished.

Charity, followed by Esperanza, who was carrying a tray full of teacups and teapot, entered the room. The housekeeper began pouring and passing them out.

Faith was overwhelmed. What Luke had just done for Colton in one moment was more than his father had ever done in a whole year for the boy. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from him as his family’s pretty housekeeper handed him a beautiful china cup that matched the one she held.

“Mister Luke,” the woman said in accented English.

“Thank you, Esperanza,” he replied.

The maid blushed before heading back to the kitchen. Over the rim of her cup, Faith met Luke’s intense gaze.

Dawn started to fuss, so Faith set her cup down and reached for the baby. “It’s her feeding time,” she whispered to Mrs. McCutcheon.

The woman handed her the infant. “Yes, follow me and I’ll show you where you can feed her.”

L
uke watched
Faith’s departure as she slowly climbed the massive staircase. Something about her being here in his home felt so right. He’d have liked to have gone with them and showed her the upper floor but that might look strange. He wanted to see her delight as she looked around. Maybe, if he’d just admit it to himself, he plain just wanted to be with her.

Flood came and sat on the other side of him. “Son, I hear you not only saved your brother’s life but also delivered Faith’s child. I’ll say you’ve had an eventful drive.”

Luke yanked his thoughts away from what might be happening upstairs and smiled. “Yes, sir. That’s right.”

“I’m proud of you, boy. Maybe you’re the one we should’ve sent off to medical school.”

“Luke wouldn’t like university, Pa,” Charity said seriously. “He likes the open land and the cattle too much. Isn’t that right, Luke?”

He nodded. “That’s so. Doctoring wouldn’t be for me. One baby in a lifetime is enough—unless it’s a foal or calf, of course.”

His father guffawed, slapping him on the back.

His mother glided gracefully down the stairs, smiling and humming. As a boy, Luke had always been amazed at how she did that, as if walking on air. “Faith’s settled in real nice,” she announced, and picked up her cup.

“Claire, should I take her up a glass of water?” Rachel asked. “I’m always thirsty when I nurse.”

“Very thoughtful, Rachel.”

Rachel went into the kitchen, and then returned with a glass of water. She cumbersomely climbed the stairs, and Luke watched her turn the corner at the top and disappear down the hall.

“I wonder where Amy got off to?” Mrs. McCutcheon said. “That girl worries me so.”

Mark, who’d been quiet up until now, spoke. “You don’t need to worry over her, Ma. You always seem to forget she’s a grown woman.”

“Hush now. ‘Pride only breeds quarrels, but wisdom is found in those who take advice,’” she pronounced. “I can worry if I want. And you should, too. Mark, I’m surprised at you,” she scolded softly.

Esperanza poked her head around the kitchen door. “Supper will be ready shortly, senora.”

“Fine,” Flood responded, standing.

“Boys, round up the little ones and get their faces and hands washed up,” Mrs. McCutcheon said. “Charity, you run off and find Amy and tell her supper will be served soon.”

The men stood. Charity and Mrs. McCutcheon disappeared into the kitchen, Flood and Mark into the dining room.

Matt stepped to the door. “Billy, Adam, Colton,” he called. When there was no answer he said to Luke, “I’ll be right back. Maybe they went farther than the barn.”

Luke was left sitting by the fire all alone. His gaze strayed to the staircase and lingered. His homecomings had always been happy. He usually looked forward to a wonderful meal prepared by Esperanza, a little scripture quoted by his mother, and then a good night’s sleep in his bed, which was much softer than a bedroll. Why, then, did it feel so strange this time?

Because his priorities had changed. Forget food. All he wanted was to bound up those stairs, like he’d done a thousand times when he was a boy, and find Faith.

T
he seclusion
in the bedroom was heavenly after the boisterous gathering downstairs. Faith wasn’t used to such large crowds, and she reclined contentedly on the bed, wishing she could sink down into the coverlet and sleep for a month.

At the unexpected tap on the door, Faith’s heart jumped. “Come in,” she called out, silently chastising her skittish behavior.

Rachel entered, carrying a glass of water. She offered it. “I thought you might be thirsty.”

“Thank you. I am.” Faith took the glass and drank. The cool water was refreshing.

“She’s such a cute little thing,” Rachel remarked as she watched the baby nurse. “My boys were much bigger when they were born.
McCutcheons
,” she added with an affectionate smile. “She’s just so small and feminine; I can’t get over it.”

Faith snuggled Dawn closer, giving the woman a smile. “She surprised me by being a couple of weeks early. Sometimes I can’t believe how tiny she is myself.” The infant wrapped her miniature little hand around a finger Faith held out.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Rachel asked, rubbing her large belly and gesturing to the side of the bed.

“Oh, p-please do,” Faith stammered, embarrassed by her lack of manners.

“Thank you. It’s just that I get out of breath easily these days, and that tall flight of stairs is no help.”

Faith modestly switched Dawn to her other breast and relaxed back against her pillows as Rachel sat. “Are you due soon?”

“A couple of weeks, I think. I’m hoping for a girl this time.”

“That would be nice, especially since you already have the two boys,” Faith surmised. The baby hiccupped, then whimpered for a moment until Faith ran her finger soothingly along her cheek.

Rachel laughed. “That’s so irritating.”

“Oh, I agree.” Faith glanced up. The other woman seemed about the same age as herself, maybe a couple of years older. How lucky she was to be part of such a wonderful family as the McCutcheons.

“This is a beautiful room,” she remarked, looking around.

“Yes,” Rachel agreed. “It’s something, isn’t it?”

Faith couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer. “Do you live here?”

“Not since Billy was born. When I first got in the family way, Matt and his father started our house over yonder. It’s not far off, and it gives us a little privacy.”

“How nice.”

“Yes, it is. Mark and Amy have a house, too. This is Matt’s old room.”

Faith nodded. “Where does Luke live?”

Rachel reached out and brushed her fingers across Dawn’s downy soft hair. The baby stopped sucking for a moment as if wondering what the sensation was she was feeling. Rachel giggled. “Being a bachelor, he’s still here in the main house, but he’s been talking lately about building a home of his own.” The woman laughed, her eyes twinkling. “His mother says he has to get married first. That’s the tradition. This family is big on tradition. She says that if she didn’t hold it over their heads, they might stay single and never give her any grandchildren.”

At another light tap on the door, Rachel called, “Yes?”

Esperanza was outside. “Supper is ready.”

“Oh, thank you,” Rachel replied, standing. “I’m so hungry I think I could eat a bear.” She looked at Faith. “Do you need any help?”

Faith shook her head. “No, thanks. I’ll be right along as soon as Dawn falls asleep. You go on ahead now before it gets cold.” She looked down at Dawn and again a warm sweetness filled her. “It won’t be long. Her eyelids are already drooping.”

At the door, Rachel turned. “Faith, I’m so glad we had this opportunity to talk. And I hope you’ll still be here when my baby is born.” She ran her hand down her belly again and walked back, a worried expression marring her brow. “Amy lost her child, so I try not to talk too much about it in front of her. Hers would have been born a few months after Matthew’s and mine. I still think it makes her feel real bad.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Faith whispered, and vowed to be careful around Mark’s wife.

By the time Dawn fell asleep and Faith made it down to the dining room, everyone was seated and passing around soup bowls. Mrs. McCutcheon filled them from a large cast-iron kettle and passed them back.

“Faith, dear. We’re glad you made it,” she called, and gestured to a seat next to Luke.

Colton was perched next to Billy and Adam at the long table, his face moist and shiny from washing and his hair slicked back. Faith smiled at him.

“Don’t be worrying about your boy,” Matt threw out. “He had my sons treed in his wagon.”

Everyone chuckled, but Faith didn’t see what was so amusing. For the last year Colton had developed a pattern of fighting, even taking on boys twice his size. She didn’t want anyone to get hurt.

“Colton, you mind your manners,” she scolded.

“I am, Ma,” he answered. His gaze slid to Luke and then dropped to his bowl.

“The soup smells wonderful, Esperanza,” Mrs. McCutcheon called out. “Creamed corn. The boys’ favorite.”

“I keep reminding Claire that they aren’t boys any longer. They’re men. She can’t seem to remember,” Flood apologized, looking at Faith, then at each of his sons.

“They will always be my boys, even when they’re sixty-four and I’m a little old lady,” she retorted, obviously happy everyone was home. She gave Flood a brilliant smile.

Again, Faith couldn’t help feeling a trifle envious. She wondered if any of them realized just how fortunate they were. Ashamed for such thoughts, she picked up her spoon.

“
U
ncle Luke
,” Adam spoke up, interrupting Luke’s meal. “Did you bring me home a horse like you promised?”

“I have one in mind,” Luke fibbed. The horse he’d given to Colton was the one he’d actually picked out for his nephew. Faith’s boy had desperately needed something to make him feel a part of things. Like he belonged. Firefly had filled the ticket perfectly. But now he’d have to see what he could do about rustling up another old, gentle horse. Fast.

Charity eyed Colton with an inquisitive expression. “How long have you been riding?” she asked.

The whole table looked interested, and Colton’s hand wobbled. Some soup splashed from his spoon onto the tablecloth. He gulped once and looked around, serious and wide-eyed. “’Bout a few days…I guess,” he muttered.

“Hm,” Charity replied, playing with her food. “Where’d you get your horse?”

“From me,” Luke answered, giving Charity a look.

Adam’s face clouded over, and Luke was afraid his young nephew might start to cry. He’d been promising to find him a suitable horse for the last few months.

Mark jumped in at Adam’s look of disappointment. “I have my eye on a little painted gelding I saw in the remuda, Adam. He looks to be just about your size. We’ll try him out tomorrow.”

Luke wondered at his sister’s attitude. He’d never really seen her be openly rude or hurtful to anyone before, not even the lovesick cowhands who worked around the barn. Was her question to Colton meant to stir the pot or cause friction between the boys? He was surprised.

“Charity.” He directed the conversation to her. “What’s new with John? Has he written lately?”

Charity’s face brightened at the mention of his gregarious little brother. “Yes. I received a letter two days ago. He’s having a wonderful time at university. There’s just so much to do in Boston, he doesn’t have enough time in one day.”

“I hope he’s concentrating on his studies and not all the ladies in town,” Flood tossed in.

“John’s a sensible young man, darling,” Mrs. McCutcheon said, patting his hand. “No need to worry.”

Charity smiled mischievously as she passed the gravy boat. “He said two girls were fighting over him, so he’s sparking them both.”

“Now, there’s a sensible fellow,” Flood boomed. “A true McCutcheon.”

His wife cleared her throat, obviously embarrassed.

Faith intensely felt Luke’s presence. He was so
close
. Every once in a while his knee would accidently graze hers—or was he doing that on purpose? His hand, resting on his thigh, was so close she could touch it if she stretched out her pinky.

“Faith?”

His voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked at him in question.

“Ma just asked you where you’re headed.”

“Oh, I’m s-sorry,” she stammered, feeling her cheeks burn. “I’m going to live with my Aunt Penelope—” She froze midsentence. Luke, Matt and Mark knew that her aunt was really a cow.

Luke’s mother didn’t seem to notice that she hadn’t finished her sentence. “That’s lovely. Family is so important.”

Her creamed corn soup was now as appealing as curdled milk. She couldn’t breathe. All she wanted to do was run up to where Dawn was sleeping and close the door.

Glancing up, she caught Charity scrutinizing her. The girl’s auburn hair draped her shoulders and elegantly framed her face. With a striking mixture of breeding and beauty, her emerald eyes snapped in challenge as they strayed from her to Luke and back again. The looks were far from kind.

“Mrs. Brown,” Luke’s sister said, reaching for a basket of bread and taking a slice. “Where’s Mr. Brown?”

Faith sat up straighter and wiped her mouth. She returned her napkin to her lap and gathered her thoughts. She was no match for this bright, educated girl; she felt it as sure as the sun rose each morning. But that didn’t mean she should let Charity McCutcheon trample her underfoot. When Samuel had taken his fall and died, she’d vowed she was done with cowering. “I’m a widow.”

“Oh, I’m
sorry
,” the girl said. “How long has he been dead?”

“Charity!” Luke’s tone was irritated. “Faith is tired. It’s been a long, hard week traveling with the herd. Why don’t you save your questions for later?”

“I don’t mind answering, Luke,” Faith spoke up. But the piece of bread she’d been eating felt like sandpaper in her mouth. “It’s been three months since Samuel’s death.”

With excellent timing, Dawn chose that moment to wake up. Her cries were clear from the upstairs bedroom. But when Faith started to rise, thankful for the chance to leave, Luke stopped her.

“Stay put and eat. I’ll get her.”