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  “Believe me, you’d never eat what I fed them,” April said. “It’ll only take twelve minutes for the biscuits to bake. During that time, you can both wash up.”

  “Now wait a minute,” Kate said as Peter quickly shoved the biscuits into the oven. “I’m trying to decide which color to stain everything. Which sample do you like the best?”

  Caleb walked over to scrutinize the scrap of leather she held out. Peter gave April a sly wink as he passed her and went to give his opinion.

  “The darkest brown is best for the men’s belts,” Caleb said.

  “I agree.” Still staring at the leather, Peter asked Kate, “What else are you making?”

  “Knife sheaths for the boys and leather cases to hold the women’s hair pins and jewelry.”

  “You’ve got five colors there,” Peter observed. “Why don’t you stain each of the cases a different color?”

  “Do all the knife sheaths in this shade.” Caleb jabbed the middle color. He then stared at Peter’s chest. “What happened to your shirt?”

  “I was holping April feed the birds and squirrels.” Peter shrugged and said in a bland tone, “I stopped her from tossing the food too far away.”

  ❧

  Kate lit the lantern and set it on her workbench. Since April had burned her hands, she couldn’t very well wash dishes or cook today. Already feeling pressed for time, Kate had still stopped working on the gifts and pitched in. She’d never been one to wake up early, so staying up late to work suited her fine.

  Frowning at the table, she tried to position the lantern so the leather pieces wouldn’t be in shadow. Staining leather evenly took concentration and a careful touch. Attempting to do it in poor lighting guaranteed spots and streaks.

  “Need another lamp?” Tobias asked.

  Kate didn’t even turn around at the sound of her oldest brother’s question. “Yes, thank you. I want to get these done. I’m afraid everyone will come home before I do.”

  Tobias lit another lantern and hung it on a bent nail. He sat and whittled as she started to stain a box. “How badly burned are April’s fingers?”

  “Not horrible, but not good. In about a week, she’ll be back to the stove.”

  “Good thing,” he chuckled. “If us boys have to start taking a turn at cooking, the chow’s liable to turn out as tough as that leather you’re working on.”

  Capturing her lower lip between her teeth, Kate concentrated on keeping the stain even. She’d started on the lightest one first, then would work her way clear down to the darkest color. That meant if she stayed up late, she might get three boxes and all of the sheaths stained tonight. That would leave two boxes and five belts for tomorrow.

  “I’ve lost track of what day it is,” she said.

  “Wednesday. No, Thursday.”

  She laughed. “You don’t sound any more sure than I am.”

  “Well, I’m trying to figure it out. We had church Sunday. Monday, we took delivery on the stallion. Tuesday, Tanner nearly got himself trampled by that horse. Yesterday, I had supper at Lucinda’s.”

  “You’re pretty sweet on her. Are you getting serious?”

  “Can’t say.” He set down the clothespin he’d whittled on the edge of her workbench and started on another.

  “Can’t, or won’t?”

  “Don’t be so pushy, Kate. It’s none of your business unless I announce I’m planning to marry.”

  She shot him a saucy grin. “By then, it’ll be too late for me to register any objections.”

  “Nothing objectionable about Lucinda.” He shaved off a corner of the rectangular block of wood.

  “It all depends on where you stand as to what you see.” Kate rubbed one last spot on the box, then set it aside.

  “Just what was that supposed to mean?”

  Capping the lid on one can of stain and opening another, Kate mused, “Ever notice how Lucinda won’t say much to any of our aunts or me?”

  “Can’t say as I have.” He glowered at her. “She’s polite as can be to Mom.”

  “Exactly. But only to Mama. If Lucinda were shy, I’d understand, but she’s not. At first, I thought maybe it was me—that she thought my stained hands were dirty or something. And when she’s been here for meals, it’s cute how the two of you manage to sit side by side. But Tobias, she doesn’t ever come in to help in the kitchen. She hasn’t offered to clear the table or do dishes.” Kate shot her brother a quick glance.

  His brows were furrowed, but he continued to whittle. “When she’s here, she’s a guest.”

  “Maybe the first time or two. But the newness wears off.”

  “There are seven women in the kitchen. You don’t need Lucinda.”

  “Aunt Lovejoy’s back pains her too much to do any appreciable work, but she still sits there and enjoys our company and conversation.” Kate knew she was treading on sensitive ground, but someone had to say something. Her brother needed to face the fact that Lucinda wasn’t a good match for him. “Since everyone left, and April and I are doing all the women’s work, a little help is in order.”

  “Is that what this is all about? You’re feeling put upon, so Lucinda is to take the blame?”

  Laughter bubbled out of her. “When have I ever been afraid of pitching in and working?”

  “You’re a Chance. Not a one of us could be lazy if we tried.” His eyes narrowed as he rounded the end of the clothespin. “As for Lucinda spending time in the kitchen when everyone else is in Yosemite—she doesn’t have all that much in common with either April or you.”

  “No, she doesn’t.” Kate dipped the corner of a fresh rag into the stain and started on the next box. “You might want to think about that. We’re the same age, but Lucinda hasn’t ever done a single chore. Maybe you need to start watching her. She’s got a lively way about her and quick wit. Those qualities and being pretty make it easy for her to turn a man’s head. I’m saying you might look at her from a different perspective.”

  “You wouldn’t have brought it up unless something was weighing on your mind.” His hands continued to move the knife across the wood in steady, sure strokes. “So why don’t you go ahead and say what you intend to, instead of sidestepping all over the place?”

  Kate took a steadying breath, then said, “Lucinda’s mother orders her expensive gowns from back East. Their family has a cook, and servants do her laundry. Would someone like that survive on Chance Ranch?”

  “She could learn how to cook and such.”

  “Yes, she could. But does she want to?”

  Tobias snorted. “If we do marry, she’d have to.”

  “Not necessarily. I mean, you’re right—she would. But I don’t think she believes that.”

  “Why wouldn’t she? Lucinda’s been here a lot. She knows Chance women pitch in and do whatever needs doing.”

  Kate shook her head. “Everyone in Reliable knows Mama received a sizable inheritance. Don’t get me wrong, Tobias. I think you’re quite a catch, but I wonder if Lucinda thinks that if you and she get married, there’s plenty of money to hire a housekeeper and cook so she won’t have to work.”

  “You’re reading far too much into this.”

  “You could be right.” Carefully rubbing the leather so the stain worked its way into the floral pattern she’d impressed into it, Kate couldn’t hold back one last comment. “When the time comes for any of us to marry, I’m hoping and praying we’ll all be blessed like our parents. Regardless of how much or how little money they had, they’ve given their hearts to this family and been true helpmeets. A woman who worries more about keeping her hands soft than about standing by her man isn’t cut out for ranch living.”

  “Sis, you’re not exactly the person to dish out advice. You’re only a year younger, but you have yet to even think about the future.”

  His words cut her deeply. “Who says I haven’t?”

  “Look at yourself.” He waved his hand at her from head to toe. “Half of the time, I’m not sure you even bothered to
brush your hair that day, and you’re still tromping around in men’s boots.”

  “Are you ashamed of me?”

  “Don’t go putting words in my mouth.”

  Not fooled by his evasive answer, Kate rubbed the stain in harder and faster. She dipped the cloth into the stain again and spread it with every scrap of concentration she could muster. Even then, she couldn’t wipe away the painful knowledge that her big brother considered her a disgrace.

  She finished that box and the next, then set to staining the knife sheaths. Six of them to do. . .five. . .four. . .three. Suddenly, each sheath represented how males dominated Chance Ranch. In her own generation alone, fourteen boys still lived here; with just her and Kate left, the girls were vastly outnumbered.

  Two. Two sheaths for the very youngest Chance boys. Those boys would be allowed to run wild, get filthy, and holler to their hearts’ content. No one would bat an eye at such behavior. No one would comment if a man’s hair was a mess or inspect what he had on his feet.

  “You’re riled,” Tobias said as he set his third clothespin on the worktable.

  Kate bowed her head over the sheath and rubbed more furiously.

  Tobias whistled. “Hoo-ooo-ey. You’re so hot, it’s a marvel there’s not steam rising from the table.”

  Never in all of her hours of doing intricate leatherwork had she toiled so intently. One more. I only have to stain this last one. Then I can walk away.

  “Sis.” Tobias had the unmitigated gall to sound concerned. “Listen—”

  Kate shook her head. “You’ve already said plenty tonight. I don’t want to hear another thing from you.”

  “Aw, for cryin’ in a bucket. How is it that you work leather like a man, gallop around like a hoyden, and suddenly get your nose out of joint because someone points out that you’re not the picture of femininity?”

  “My being a woman didn’t stop you from asking me to repair your saddle last week.”

  “I knew it. I knew when you got all silent that I’d tweaked your pride.”

  She finished the last knife sheath, capped the stain, and tried to get the worst of the brown splotches off her hands with turpentine. Why bother? I’ll get them even darker when I finish staining the rest of the stuff tomorrow.

  Avoiding looking at her brother, Kate mumbled, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Tobias reached out and grabbed her wrist. “You’re not walking away yet. Ephesians 4:26.”

  “Be ye angry and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath,” she quoted. The verse had been drilled into all of them. There were times when two or three family members sat up a good portion of the night before settling an issue, but they didn’t climb into bed until the matter was resolved.

  He jerked his chin toward a stool, then turned loose of her.

  Kate backed up a step. “I’m not angry. I’m hurt.”

  “Leave it to you to start acting like a woman about this. Everything else, you behave like a—”

  “Like a what?” She folded her arms across her chest.

  Tobias compressed his lips.

  “I know what I am. I’m a woman. You might not think leatherwork is feminine, but it’s what I do. It helps our ranch. It’s never kept me away from doing my share of gardening, minding the younger kids, or washing piles of laundry. I mended that shirt you’re wearing, and I made the supper you ate tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll milk the cow, gather the eggs, and make your breakfast. Doing those things makes me happy because I love our family. Knowing you’re ashamed of me—it hurts. A lot. I have hopes and dreams for the future. Know this, though: Any man who can’t see past some stain on my hands isn’t the type I want to marry.”

  Three

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right?” April stood out in the yard and studied Kate’s face. She and her cousin shared a cabin. When Kate had crawled into bed the previous night, she’d been utterly silent. Usually, they’d chatter awhile up in their beds in the loft, but Kate had turned her back and pulled the covers over her head. This morning, Kate barely spoke a word.

  “Of course I’ll be okay.” Kate made a shooing motion. “We need you to buy essentials before our mothers get home. They’ll have a fit if we’re out of anything.”

  “I could give Peter a list.”

  “Kate’ll be fine.” Tobias stepped up beside Kate and rested his hand on her shoulder. “We all love her chili. Tanner and I’ll do the lunch dishes so she can finish staining the gifts.”

  “I’m using the very last of the yeast to bake bread. Don’t forget to get more,” Kate said.

  “Then we’re off.” Peter curled his hands around April’s waist and lifted her onto the buckboard. He rounded the front, gave each of the horses an affectionate pat, then climbed up. As he sat on the bench beside her, April tried to scoot over to give him a little more room. Why do I have to be six axe handles wide?

  “You fixin’ to fall out, first bump we hit?” Peter gave her a meaningful look. A sly smile lifted his lips as he tilted his head toward his left. “C’mon over here.”

  “See you later,” Kate said over her shoulder as she went back into the house.

  “Giddyup.” Peter flicked the reins, and the buckboard started to move. Four crates and a pair of bushel baskets full of produce rattled in the back.

  “It’s uncommon for you to make a trip to town. Usually the MacPherson women go.”

  After glancing both directions, Peter looked back at her and winked. “Gotta make shore nobody’s close ’nuff to hear us. Goin’ to town made for a good excuse. You and me are gonna start in on our plan. I reckon this’ll give us a time to start practicing.”

  “So what do I do?”

  “Well, a buck don’t want his gal perched so far away.”

  April said, “I scooted closer back home.”

  Peter chuckled. “You wiggled a mite, but if you got any closer to me, ’twas only a speck. ’Stead of actin’ like I’m fixin’ to bite you, you oughtta be close ’nuff for me to catch a whiff so’s I cain ’preciate yore perfume.”

  “I don’t wear perfume.”

  He thumbed back the brim of his hat and shook his head. “When I hefted you into the buckboard, I caught somethin’ that smelled sweet.”

  Hefted? How mortifying. That’s what he thinks?

  “That’s a right fetchin’ shade of pink yore goin’. Hit’s down-right cute. Ain’t nothin’ a-wrong with a feller likin’ his ladylove’s scent.”

  “It’s just the soap Polly makes for me.”

  “Iff’n she cain make it a soap, I’m shore she could make it into a perfume or lotion, too. Whilst we’re in town, you cain drop in and ask her. You need to make it a habit to be dabbin’ some on each day. A gal niver knows ’zactly when her beau might take a mind to drop in.”

  April nodded glumly. No man’s ever going to get close enough for perfume to matter. Peter’s one of the strongest men around, and he has to “heft” me up.

  Coaxing the horses to take the right fork in the road, he said, “Speaking of lotion, I’m countin’ on you to remind me to get some of that lotion my ma’s taken a shine to.”

  “Jergens. Aunt Lois likes Jergens. Aunt Eunice favors making her own concoction of Vaseline and mineral oil.”

  “Wish she wouldn’t. It rubs off on ever’thang. Stuff’s slicker’n spit on a glass doorknob.”

  April managed to laugh.

  Peter smiled at her. “Now that was real good of you. Knowin’ his gal thinks he’s clever makes a man right proud. And you knowin’ the likes and particulars of my kin—that tells me you care ’bout those I love. A feller wants his bride and family to get on real well.”

  “Of course, I love you all. The Chances and MacPhersons are like one big, happy family.”

  “Ain’t that the beatenist thang? I always thought you were kin, but yore really not. Thank on it a spell. Yore aunt Lovejoy is Polly’s stepmama. Since my aunt Tempy is Lovejoy’s sis, that means Polly is a cousin by marriage to all of Tempy and Mike
’s children.”

  April’s eyes widened. “I never gave it any thought.”

  “But ’tis the plain truth.”

  “I don’t want it to be, though.” April sighed. “I love all of you MacPhersons.”

  “Glad to know it.”

  She perked up. “Lovejoy says family’s made by opening our hearts to others, not just by blood alone. I’m going to adopt you all.”

  “You shore you know what yore askin’?”

  April laughed. “I most certainly do. My mind’s made up.”

  When they reached town, Peter stopped in front of White’s Mercantile. “Wait right here a moment,” he ordered.

  April sat up on the bench seat and stared down at her hands. They looked ugly. Blisters swelled on the pads of all ten fingers.

  “Howdy, Mrs. White. I brung in fresh truck.”

  “Lovely!” the storekeeper said from the doorway. “I’ve been desperate for some.”

  Peter lifted the heavy crates and carried them inside. Farm work resulted in his strength—strength he has to use to “heft” me. April pretended to look back down at her hands.

  “We’ll be back in a bit, ma’am. We’re gonna go pay our respects ’cross the street.”

  “I’ll tally everything up and put it out to display.” Mrs. White bustled back inside the mercantile.

  April stood up and was ready to jump down.

  “You hold it right thar,” Peter boomed. “You tryin’ to break an ankle atop already havin’ burnt hands?”

  “I. . .um. . .” Don’t want to break your back.

  “What’s this about burned hands?” Eric Walcott asked as he stepped out of his office directly across the street.

  “Howdy, Doc.” Peter clamped his hands around April and swept her down. “April sorta burnt her hands yesternoon. Long as we’re in town, seems like a good notion to have you take a look-see.”

  “Sure. Come on in.”

  Peter steered her across the street, up the steps, and into the office.

  “Really, I’m fine.”